Cataclysm
by bunjamina66
Summary: The team head off-world to investigate an Ancient outpost supposedly capable of manufacturing ZPMs. Unfortunately, things don’t ever quite turn out the way you expect and soon it’s a race against time to save John and Rodney.
1. Chapter 1

**Cataclysm**

**By Flossy**

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fan fiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made. The only ones I own are Jameson, Captains Anderson and Ashford, Jessie and Drs Grace and Alexis. However, if anyone knows how I can get my hands on a certain Canadian astrophysicist, there could be a Snickers bar in it for you...

Summary: The team head off-world to investigate an Ancient outpost supposedly capable of manufacturing ZPMs. Unfortunately, things don't ever quite turn out the way you expect and soon it's a race against time to save John and Rodney. So it's pretty much your average off-world mission, then…

Central Character(s): Team Sheppard, Elizabeth, Carson, Radek, Lorne, plus a couple of original characters.

Category (ies): Angst, Action, Drama, H/C, some humour. (Yeah, I know: I suck at this part.)

Placement: Season Three, sometime after 'McKay and Mrs Miller'.

Rating: +15 for strong language in both English and Czech (yes, Rodney, Radek and John, I'm talking about _you_…), blood and… oh, you'll see.

Spoilers: There are a couple of vague references to Season One's 'Underground', Season Two's 'Trinity' and a few general ones for Season Three, including 'Progeny' and 'McKay and Mrs Miller'. And maybe some I missed. If you can spot 'em, you deserve a Mars bar!

A/N: This happened for a number of reasons and yes, insanity is pretty high up on the list (*grins and cackles manically*). I just thought it'd be a nifty idea for a story: I've wanted to do another 'boys getting trapped somewhere' tale for a while now…

My dearly beloved beta Moony requested whump for _both _of the lads and plenty of it, as well a whole host of other outrageous and seemingly impossible demands. One in particular was worried!Carson so I hope you approve, missy! My militant badgers agreed with her – they have a disturbing fondness for things that go boom. (They also beat me with a big stick until I said yes, so if you don't like this, then you'll have to take it up with the damn fuzzballs, provided they don't maim you first.)

In truth, I'd actually envisioned this with a completely different ending, but those pesky badgers snuck in and messed about with my laptop. I'll get you, you damn furballs! D'you hear me?! I'LL GET YOU!!! Anyways, enjoy the whumping!

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**Part 1:**

**Chapter 1: Many Things About This Are Not Good…**

Pain.

That was the first thing that his brain managed to register as Lt Col John Sheppard came to. He was in pain. Trying to move, he let out an involuntary yelp (which he would later vow and declare was in fact a manly grunt) as he felt red hot spikes shoot through his back and legs. Okay, so it was actually a _lot_ of pain. Not good. Not good at all. Staying still seemed to be a pretty solid idea at that precise moment in time.

As his eyes slowly started to become accustomed to the gloom surrounding him, John realised that he appeared to be lying face down on a cold stone floor. That wasn't very useful by any definition of the word. Then again, he didn't really seem to have much of a choice in the matter – carefully snaking a hand around to his back, Sheppard found that he was pinned under what felt like a large and very heavy slab of rock. On the bright side, he'd found both the source of and reason for his discomfort. Now all he had to do was remember what the hell was going on, where he was and why his team were nowhere to be seen. They wouldn't just leave him here.

Hang on…

Rodney! He'd been with Rodney – or at least, that was what his disturbingly fuzzy head was telling him. Where the hell was he? And why was it so dark? John tried hard to call out, but his vocal chords had picked a damn fine time to go on strike, and all he could manage was a wheezing rasp. As his hand flitted about, he felt his fingers brush past something cold and metallic. Turning his head as far as he could, he managed to make out the distinctive shape of a P-90.

_His_ P-90.

A couple of false starts later, he managed to latch onto it and dragged it closer. After fumbling around with fingers that were not in a particularly co-operative mood – he was going to have to undertake some serious talks with his body later because all this rebelling was _not_ helping, dammit – he succeeded in clicking on the small, mounted flashlight.

The Air Force man almost cackled hysterically over the fact that this time, for once, the bulb hadn't broken. He'd have to tell McKay about this: there had been at least seventeen separate incidents involving P-90s with broken torches that month alone. So, the two men had set up a betting pool with Zelenka concerning who was most likely to bust the next one. Sheppard knew for a fact that the abrasive physicist had put a large bet on him, seeing as the Colonel had been responsible for nine of the breakages.

John was up seventy bucks.

The thought of the scientist was like a kick in the gut and he quickly re-focused his attention to the matter at hand. As a weapon, the P-90 was a remarkable feat of warfare engineering – light, easy to use and deadly in the right hands. As a flashlight, it was a no-good, useless piece of crap that even a toddler would have been pissed with. John strained to see _anything_ in the tiny light, shifting it back and forth as his eyes re-adjusted. The gloom took on an ominous feeling as the beam hit jagged, uneven surfaces, making the shadows jump and flicker. Dust hung in the air, tickling John's nose and throat, and he feebly tried to wave it away, coughing.

That was when he saw McKay.

The Canadian was lying on his back, slightly off to the side of Sheppard, and trapped awkwardly under more debris. The man had been so still that the Colonel had assumed that he was just another pile of rocks. If Sheppard had had his own legs free, he would have kicked himself for the casual dismissal. Now that he looked properly, he could make out Rodney's mop of brown hair under the dust and, more importantly, the slight but comforting rise and fall of his chest.

From his pale and slack features, combined with the trickle of blood running down his temple, John could tell that McKay was unconscious. That was probably for the best – Rodney's left arm was bent at an impossible angle, and his shoulder looked like it was dislocated. John moved the tiny light around and groaned as he saw the worryingly large pool of blood that was spreading out from underneath the scientist.

Suddenly, McKay not being awake was a _very_ big problem.

John could just about reach his team-mate's face and shoulders, but that was as far as it went. Even that was a stretch: despite his efforts and a considerable amount of pain, he couldn't reach the injury to McKay's side. He knew that he had to stop the blood loss as quickly as possible and unfortunately, there was only one way to do it.

Gritting his teeth, he tried again to call out and was rewarded with a hoarse whisper. "Rodney? C'mon, Rodney, open those blue eyes for me." He coughed again as he inhaled yet another lungful of dust, wincing as the movement jarred his back.

The physicist didn't reply.

"Hey! I'm not screwing around here!" John reached out and grabbed a handful of Rodney's hair. "Wake up, McKay! That's an _order_!" He tugged as hard as he could.

Rodney let out a low moan and his eyelids fluttered briefly.

John's voice seemed to grow stronger as he felt a brief flicker of hope. "That's it! Come on, wakey wakey."

"…Wha…?"

"Rodney!" Sheppard nearly sobbed out loud in relief. "No, no, don't move," he urged as he watched the physicist's shoulders tense up. "I need you to listen to me."

The scientist blinked lethargically and swivelled his somewhat wonky gaze up and across to John. "Sh-Sheppard?" He flinched and then groaned as the pain flooded his body.

"You're bleeding, Rodney. I need you to concentrate!" John knew that McKay and the sight of blood were not a happy couple, but right now, he didn't have any other options.

The Canadian raised his good hand to his head and hissed as his fingers came into contact with the open wound. "Hit… hit my head…" His eyes drifted shut again.

"God dammit, McKay, stay awake!" Sheppard growled, tugging once again at Rodney's hair. A small voice at the back of his mind yelled abuse at him for using his death grip on McKay's already battered head – it was the last thing that anyone with a concussion needed – but it was his only choice.

The voice was quickly told where and how to get off in graphic detail.

"'M awake," McKay slurred, opening his eyes. "Stop it." He tried to push the pilot's hand away, but missed it by a couple of inches.

"I need you to focus. You're bleeding and I can't reach the wound," John stated, alarmed by how out of it Rodney seemed to be.

"What? I…" Rodney's voice sounded slow and sluggish. "Oh, God… It hurts…"

"I'm sure it does, buddy, but you've gotta do exactly what I tell you." John snaked a hand down to his vest and managed to find a couple of pressure bandages. He held them out to the Canadian. "Take these and get whatever's bleeding dressed."

Wide, panic-stricken blue eyes met worried hazel ones. "I'm bleeding?"

Rodney sounded confused and John knew that wasn't a good sign. Biting back his pain and frustration, he stretched as far as he could and placed the dressings in McKay's good hand. "_Now_, Rodney!" he growled. "C'mon, move it!"

His 'military' voice seemed to do the trick – Rodney snapped out of his concussion induced stupor and tightened his grip on the bandages. He then howled in agony as he tried and failed to move his left arm.

Sheppard winced in sympathy. "That's not such a good plan, McKay."

"Thanks… for that," the physicist ground out through gritted teeth. The sudden pain from his arm had dislodged some of the cotton wool that seemed to be filling his head.

"Well, you know me," replied Sheppard, trying hard to keep his voice casual, "I'm a helpful kind of guy."

McKay managed a painful eye roll at the comment and used his teeth to tear off the wrappings. "Any… _helpful_ advice on… _where_ I'm bleeding?" he asked, panting hard.

"Right hand side," John said, moving the light down, "just under your tac vest and across from your hip."

"Great…" Rodney tilted his head down and saw a jagged cut running across his lower abdomen. Wow, that was a lot of blood, he thought absently, trying his hardest not to pass out or throw up. He took a couple of deep breaths, bit his lip and slammed the bandages in place.

The pain was excruciating, ricocheting up and down his flank like lightning strikes, forcing the air from his lungs and tears to form in his eyes. He felt the howl building up in his chest and tried hard to suppress it even as his vision greyed, but lost the battle.

John winced again as he heard his friend's agonised screams. He reached across and managed to grip McKay's right shoulder, trying to instil some kind of support. It was about the only thing he _could_ do other than talk. He kept up a litany of chatter, as much for his benefit as McKay's, telling the physicist to hold on, to stay focused and breathe through the pain, that everything was going to be alright.

Although it would have seemed to a casual observer that Rodney wasn't listening, lost in the haze of pain and concentrating on something far more important, he wanted nothing more than to be able to answer the Colonel. He wanted to tell him that he wasn't going anywhere and that he shouldn't be worried. Unfortunately, the only sounds that came from his lips were howls and cries that he had no control over.

After what felt to John like an eternity, Rodney's screams eventually died down to a quiet whimpering. "That… Jesus… _fuck_. That… that really hurt," he gasped, the tears that he had shed without realising streaking his dust covered face. He shuddered, more from the stress of his situation than the pain, suddenly feeling a bone-deep coldness sweeping over his broken body. A tiny, detached part of him knew that it was the onset of shock and that thought made him shiver more violently.

Apparently, rocks made for a lousy blanket.

Sheppard grimaced guiltily as he felt the trembling under his fingertips. God, he wished he could do something, anything, to make his friend more comfortable. "I know, buddy. I'm sorry."

The scientist let out a shuddering breath and looked back at Sheppard. Once he felt able to speak without throwing up, he frowned and asked, "How 'bout you?"

McKay knew that John would be his usual stoic (and therefore idiotic) self and spout off some cock and bull story about being 'fine' or having 'just a scratch'. The man could have a hole the size of a cue ball in him and brush it off. Hell – he'd probably just ask for a band aid. That being said, Rodney knew he had to ask the question regardless of the fairy tale he'd get as a reply.

It was pretty much par for the course with Sheppard, so the Air Force man's brutally honest answer shocked him to his core.

"Well, it's possible that I've got one hell of a concussion, judging from the heavy metal band that's playing a gig in my skull," the Colonel said. "Bruised my ribs and I think my leg's broken, but I can't really tell."

His surprise gave way to the more familiar feelings of annoyance and frustration. "What?" Rodney gave his team-mate a weak but exasperated scowl. "How can you… _not_ know if… your leg's broken?"

"Well, I don't know whether you noticed, but I've got a damn slab of rock lying across pretty much all of my lower body!" Sheppard snapped. "I think that a broken fucking leg is probably on the cards, don't you?!"

It must be bad if John wasn't down-playing his injuries and McKay gave another shudder. "Sorry." He closed his eyes and gave a weak attempt at an apologetic shrug – well, half shrug to be precise. That was a stupid move, and his left shoulder immediately informed him that he really, _really_ shouldn't do that again.

It was like having a drill sergeant kick you in the teeth to wake you up: direct, sharp and utter torture.

John's face softened at the sound of McKay's quiet groans and he forced his anger back. "To be honest, I can't really feel much down there at the moment," he admitted in a low voice. "I think I can move my toes, but they've started to go numb."

The blue eyes snapped open. "That s-sounds bad."

"I've had worse," the pilot answered with a small grin, trying to calm his own nerves and reassure his team-mate. He shone the light over McKay's body and let out an involuntary growl. The scientist was just as stuck as he was: the Canadian was more or less half buried and John couldn't even see his friend's legs. "Can you move?" he asked, not really expecting a positive answer.

"Don't think so," Rodney replied, dreading the very thought of any kind of physical exertion. He took in their surroundings, grimacing as he saw the sheer mass of detritus hemming them in. "What… what the hell happened?"

John carefully shook his head. "Cave in?" he suggested, obviously unsure.

"This doesn't look… like a cave, Colonel." The Canadian managed to point at the wall with his good arm. "See? Looks more… like a room or… or building maybe."

Sheppard tilted his head up and across, swinging the P-90 around. Now that he looked more closely, he realised that the walls and roof (or what was left of them) were not even remotely cave shaped. As McKay had so astutely observed, they did indeed look like some kind of building – not that he could remember where they were or why they were there in the first place.

Frowning, he returned his attention to his friend and said, "You may be onto something there, Rodney, but I can't seem to remember much at the moment. Like I said, I'm pretty sure I hit my head."

"Oh boy," the scientist groused weakly. "That's all… I need – you with even… less brain cells than… you had before."

"My brain's working fine, McKay," Sheppard replied, a small grin playing across his face. "Yours, I'm not so sure about." He paused for a moment, rubbing at eyes that felt gritty. "What's the last thing you remember?"

McKay's face scrunched up as he thought. "We… we were running," he said, biting back a groan as the pain in his side spiked suddenly. "There was… something wrong…"

John's eyes narrowed then widened almost comically as Rodney's words jogged part of a hazy memory. "Explosion," he whispered. "Something was gonna blow."

"Crap," Rodney breathed. "Explains the mess."

"Must have been one hell of a fireworks display." The Colonel let out a shaky sigh, closing his eyes.

"Teyla and Ronon?"

John shook his head. "I don't know. I'm pretty sure they weren't in here with us but..." He tried to sound affirmative, but Rodney could see the concern that flashed in the pilot's hazel eyes.

"Many things about this… are not good," McKay whispered. "In fact… I'd go so far… as to say… we're both screwed."

"I think I've got to agree with you on that one, Answer Man," John said with a sigh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Eighteen Hours Earlier**

Elizabeth Weir raised her eyebrow and tilted her head in the direction of her Chief Science Officer. He had almost _skipped_ into the meeting with a quirky grin and a tell-tale glint in his eyes, and judging from the animated look that was now on his face, she knew that McKay had found something interesting. Holding back a smile at how young it made him look, she instead asked, "Care to share with the rest of the class, Rodney?"

"Yeah, McKay," Sheppard drawled, leaning back in his chair. "We wanna be excited too."

"Oh, please, Sheppard," Rodney shot back. "You have enough excitement in your life already."

The Air Force man grinned and his reply of, "Yeah, excitement, adventure and really wild things," had McKay sniggering.

"Boys," Weir intoned in what she hoped was a commanding voice, although she had hard pressed to stop a smile of her own at the Douglas Adams reference. There were definitely times when she felt more like a school teacher than the leader of Atlantis. Both McKay and Sheppard were two of the most intelligent people she'd ever known, but more often than not, it was like dealing with two errant teenagers.

Satisfied that they were paying attention again, she looked over to the Canadian. "Now, Rodney, what are you trying to tell us?"

The scientist was practically bouncing in his chair with enthusiasm, and when he spoke his words came out in a rush. "You remember a couple of months ago Zelenka and I created that search programme for the Ancient database?"

The group nodded, exchanging amused looks: it had been all Rodney had talked about for a week and a half. He and Radek had created said search engine for the database in an effort to try to make looking through it easier and more efficient. Their main reason was to try and cut back on the number of hours the Science department had to spend trawling through it – to date, McKay himself had logged over six thousand hours and when that was added to the totals from the rest of his team… Elizabeth couldn't remember the exact number, but she was pretty sure that it wasn't altogether healthy.

Rodney grinned at them all smugly. "Well, it worked."

"And?" prompted John, who hadn't really expected anything less from his team-mate. He covered his sudden feeling of pride with a mock glower. "C'mon, McKay, spill it. Some of us haven't had breakfast yet."

"That's hardly _my_ fault, Colonel," Rodney replied, giving the pilot one his trademark scowls followed by an eye roll. "You should learn to get to the mess before Ronon does."

The Satedan gave them a feral looking grin. "I was hungry."

"You know, Specialist Dex, one of these days, you and McKay are going to eat us out of house and home," Sheppard said, looking sulky. "It was _waffles_ this morning as well."

"Yeah. They were really good too," added Ronon.

"They were rather tasty, weren't they?" Rodney said, unable to resist the opportunity for a jibe. "Especially with the maple syrup."

"Have I told you how much of a rat bastard you can be, McKay?" the Air Force man growled, rubbing his empty stomach.

"Hey, _you_ were the one who decided to stay up most of the night, Sheppard. No one _forced _you to keep playing Grand Theft Auto."

"I have a reputation to maintain, buddy."

"Yeah, right. You're just in a funk because I got a better score than you."

"Gentlemen? Could we please focus?" Elizabeth shook her head, making a mental note to try and find out who had smuggled the newest stash of games into the city. It wasn't that she had a problem with the expedition members playing computer games in their down time. They were all adults and it was none of her business how they chose to spend their time off. She just wished that they'd asked her if she had a favourite.

After all, there was only so much solitaire a woman could take.

The two of them continued their argument as if she'd never even spoken. "Yeah, but that's only because you found the cheats!"

"It had nothing to do with that! I happen to have excellent hand-to-eye co-ordination."

"You know, McKay, maybe you ought to go and see Beckett."

"What for?"

"Well, you're delusional for a start…"

Sometimes, it really _was_ like being school teacher. Either that or an intergalactic babysitter… She briefly wondered if there was any extra pay to be had for looking after two ten year olds masquerading as section heads.

Weir cleared her throat and gave them the ever dreaded 'mother' look. _"Children…"_

They ceased their bickering and looked so sheepish that even Teyla had a hard time trying not to laugh.

"Where was I?" asked Rodney, clearing his throat embarrassedly.

"Search engine for the database," John grunted. He was still miffed about missing out on those waffles – and, as McKay had so helpfully reminded him, the fresh batch of maple syrup that had arrived with the new supplies.

"Ah yes, of course. I decided to set up a search for power sources," he explained, bringing up a display on the wall monitor behind him. "And I found _this_."

The display showed a star map with a planet highlighted.

"M4R-924," Teyla read.

"What about it?" asked John, frowning.

"Apparently, there's an Ancient outpost situated there," McKay replied cryptically.

"So what? There are outposts all over the Pegasus Galaxy!"

'Man, Sheppard's a cranky bunny when he misses breakfast,' Rodney thought. Out loud, he said, "That's true, but this one's slightly different."

"Different?" asked Teyla, her curiosity piqued. "In what way?"

"For a start it supposedly has its very own cloaking system," McKay replied, "which indicates a significant power source. And there are a few other… oddities." He beamed at them then launched into a detailed speech filled with so much techno-babble it made Sheppard's head spin. He thought he caught the word 'drone', but dismissed it as a hunger induced auditory hallucination.

It was hard to keep up with the Chief Science Officer at the best of times (even though he was a maths geek himself) but when the man was this excited about something, the task became almost impossible.

"McKay," he growled warningly, cutting the physicist off as he went into a tangent about _Easter bunnies_ for God only knew what reason. "Today would be good."

"What's your point, Rodney?" asked Weir, trying hard to be as diplomatic as possible.

McKay gave her a grin. "Don't you see, Elizabeth? According to the Ancient database, M4R-924 was where they – the Ancients, that is – were conducting experiments in _vacuum_ energy." He raised an eyebrow and gave them a meaningful look.

That sparked a ripple of renewed interest in the gang.

"You mean as in the Zee PM kind of energy?" asked Sheppard, leaning forward in his chair.

"Possibly," Rodney agreed.

"Rodney," Elizabeth intoned, arching an eyebrow.

He sighed heavily and pointed to the display behind him. "I admit that it might be a long shot," he eventually conceded. "The entry itself was vague to say the least – just a lot of veiled hints, obscure references and so on – but if I'm right," he gave the group a small chuckle as if to say 'when am I _not_?', "we could have just found the lab where they first created and manufactured Zed PMs." As he spoke, his hands had never stopped moving, creating intricate patterns in the air.

Sheppard often wondered what would happen if he handcuffed the man to the table. "Whoa," he replied, raising his eyebrows. "That's just… whoa."

Rodney grinned at him, nodding. "Yeah, it's kind of cool, isn't it?"

"Hold on a minute, boys," said Elizabeth, stepping in before they became both excited and uncontrollable. "What _exactly_ did the entry say?"

The physicist's grin faded slightly. "Basically, it stated that the outpost was designed and built purely for the purpose of energy experimentation," he told the group. "According to the obscure references I mentioned earlier, it was mainly just one Ancient…" he looked down at his laptop and grimaced, "…uh, Gemæd." He winced as he said the unfamiliar name. "Anyway, he was the one who worked there, and from the few notes of his that I was able to find, it looks like he was trying to design a suitable casing for what sounds like a ZedPM." He shrugged, looking almost apologetic. "Like I said, it's vague but entirely possible."

"Although I admit that being able to procure another Zee PM would be a huge advantage," Elizabeth said, "I'm not entirely sold on this. For all we know, the outpost could have been destroyed by the Wraith or, if it's still intact, it may have been abandoned for a reason." She aimed a rather stern and meaningful look at Rodney.

"Which is why we need to check it out," McKay countered, trying hard to shove the memory of the failed Arcturus project aside.

"What do _you_ think, John?"

"I agree with McKay. We _should_ take a look-see," said Sheppard, with a massive grin. He gave Elizabeth one of his best 'puppy dog' looks, all big eyes and innocence, knowing that it had never failed to win an argument. Beside him, Rodney was nodding feverously.

'Of _course_ you agree with him,' she thought to herself. 'How could either of you resist poking around in a potentially dangerous lab?' Silently cursing herself for being un-immune to the Colonel's charms, she turned her attention to the two other members of Team Sheppard. "Teyla, Ronon? What about you? Have either of you ever been to the planet?"

The Athosian shook her head. "I have not. My people have never been there and I am unfamiliar with any of the surrounding worlds."

"Me neither," grunted Ronon, giving them an odd look. "At least, I'm pretty sure I haven't." If he was brutally honest, he'd lost track of the number of planets he'd visited over his years as a runner. "It doesn't sound familiar."

"Elizabeth, I really think we should go and take a look," interjected McKay impatiently. "And by _think_, what I actually mean is _have_ to. After all, if this place is capable of doing what it's supposed to, we may be able to use it to our advantage." He gave her a lop-sided smirk. "I mean, who knows? We might even be able to make our own Zed PMs. Just think what we could do if Atlantis was fully powered!" He gave a nervous sounding chuckle as he played his last trump card, "At the very least, we might be able to salvage a couple of drones – the outpost was apparently equipped with a weapon's chair."

It worked perfectly.

Beside him, John sat up a little straighter, ignoring the eye roll aimed at him by the Canadian and the little cough that sounded oddly like '_Pavlovian!_'. "That settles it then. This could give us a serious advantage," the pilot stated. "And I don't know about you, but I'm willing to get my hands on anything that could give us an edge."

"The Colonel is right," agreed Teyla. "After all, it is no longer just the Wraith who pose a threat." She looked to Ronon for confirmation, not surprised when the Satedan nodded.

"I'm with them on this one," he said quietly. "Like McKay said, even if the place doesn't work, we can still salvage spares. That's _always_ a good thing."

"Come on, Elizabeth," McKay whined, his eyes wide and pleading. "_Please._ You know this is a potentially life-changing discovery."

Sheppard bit his lip trying not to laugh out loud. It seemed that Rodney had cultivated his own 'puppy dog' eyes look – that, mixed with the blatant begging, had sounded pretty effective.

Elizabeth sighed and looked at her hands for a moment. She knew that they were right – with the appearance of the Replicators, they seemed to have gained more enemies in the past few months than they could handle. That meant that having more options was a smart move. She slowly looked up and smiled at them. "Very well, you have a go. On one condition," she added as they rose from their seats. "I want to take a look at those entries for myself, Rodney."

The scientist nodded. "I'll get Simpson to send you everything."

"Thank you. Go on then," Elizabeth sighed with weary affection. "Go and find some new toys."

Team Sheppard trouped out of the conference room, chatting animatedly as they headed to gear up. Watching them go, Elizabeth tried to suppress the sudden and unexplainable cold shiver that ran down her spine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: At the Outpost**

Sheppard rested his hands on his P-90, surreptitiously leaning against a pine tree. His laidback demeanour was only betrayed by his eyes, which constantly darted to and fro, scanning the undergrowth. Some people might have called it paranoia, but the pilot preferred to think of it as being extra-cautious.

And he had a damn good reason to be.

According to both the Ancient database and the gospel that was McKay's 'humble' opinion, this place was supposedly uninhabited, but he wasn't taking any chances. The last world they'd visited on an apparently routine mission hadn't been as abandoned as they had originally thought – and its native populace weren't exactly the friendly type, especially around 'heathen off-worlders'.

Convinced that the team were the Pegasus Galaxy's equivalent of the Devil incarnate, the locals had tried to sacrifice them to appease their Gods. A hasty retreat and one brief but incredibly violent encounter later, and they had barely made it to the Gate in one piece. Sheppard and Teyla were covered in bruises and small cuts from the various sharp and pointy projectiles that had been thrown, but McKay had broken his ankle. That was thanks to a particularly vicious bolo (one that had been aimed with almost deadly accuracy) which had brought Rodney crashing painfully to the ground. Not even Ronon had come away entirely unscathed – he had copped an arrow through the shoulder as he had taken a running dive at the wormhole.

So Sheppard maintained his vigil. The last thing he wanted was a repeat performance – they were at least three miles from the Gate at their current position and the outpost didn't provide an easily defendable position.

McKay's insistence on coming to this planet and his initial excitement had been infectious during their briefing earlier, but now it was starting to seem like a really bad idea. The possibility of finding a much needed ZPM had made the Canadian's eyes light up with that slightly manic glint – the same look he got whenever they found something new and shiny… which the American had learned to translate as 'dangerous and possibly lethal'. Normally, John just laughed and proceeded to bait the scientist, but this time… He couldn't find words to describe it. Something felt off somehow.

Maybe even 'hinky'.

SGA-1 had arrived to find – 'surprise, surprise' thought John, bitterly – yet another wood. It was pretty much the same as at least a dozen of the other worlds his team had visited. 'One of these days', Sheppard thought to himself, 'we'll come across a world that's not A, covered in trees, B, the spitting image of Vancouver or C, damp from constant rain'.

The Air Force man smiled to himself as he remembered McKay's reaction to the bad weather. The Canadian had moaned and whined, declaring loudly for all of his team to hear that he caught colds easily. When Ronon had started to tease him, Rodney had muttered something about pneumonia and how the wet conditions would make him even more susceptible to the stomach flu that was currently doing the rounds back in the city. John would never admit it out loud, but he wasn't that big a fan of the climate either and judging from the way Teyla pulled her jacket closer, the Athosian shared his sentiment.

Still, when they had found the outpost, McKay had gotten worked up to a near frenzy and the discomfort from the moist air was temporarily forgotten. The scientist was like an over grown kid at times. The way he had gotten excited as they'd uncovered the more or less intact building had made John smile. It was like it was Christmas Day and Rodney had snagged all the best presents.

The outpost seemed totally out of place in the woodland. It was as if someone had literally just dumped it smack in the middle of a small grove. Over the years that it had laid dormant, vines and moss had snaked their way up the sides of the structure, almost hiding it entirely. It reminded John of the den he'd had when he was a kid.

Still, Sheppard and the others were getting used to finding Ancient outposts in the most unlikely of places, so hadn't been all that surprised at first. They had pulled away the vegetation from the main entrance, letting Ronon hack some of the more persistent vines, until the doors were clear from any and all obstructions.

As they had walked around the perimeter, it soon became clear that the building was partly underground. The topside section wasn't even half a storey high and according to the database, it was meant to be a factory. So, unless the Ancients had their own version of a TARDIS, which could have been possible but highly unlikely (after all, they _had_ made a jumper that was capable of time travel), the rest of the facility had to be underneath them.

And from the look of it, John guessed that it was probably quite a long way down.

Surprisingly, there were no symbols near the doors – it appeared that whatever was inside was too valuable to draw attention to. At least, that was what McKay was hoping. The others thought that it was because there simply wasn't anything worthwhile but kept their mouths shut for fear of provoking the physicist into a rant. Rodney was practically dancing with glee as he babbled happily though, and that usually meant that he'd turn out to be right with his assumptions.

It was only when they tried to enter it that the problems had started.

To begin with, none of them, not even John, could get the doors to open. Worried that there wasn't enough power, McKay had pulled out his scanner only to reveal that the doors should have opened. He thought for a moment then changed the settings on his little Ancient doohickey. When he frowned sharply at the series of unhappy bleeps that the machine made, Sheppard knew that there was a problem.

It appeared that not just anyone could get inside.

Rodney had quickly located a control panel and started trying to bypass the security system that was in place, but had received a pretty hefty jolt from the circuitry in return. He had nearly thrown his screwdriver at Ronon when the ex-runner had made a quip about McKay's singed fingers proving the 'no power' theory wrong and for a brief moment, the Colonel thought that things would get ugly. Luckily, Teyla had stepped in and soothed the ruffled feathers, pulling the Satedan away so that McKay could work in peace. Eventually, after he'd gotten a couple more zaps for his trouble, he'd managed to partially over-ride both the mechanical and DNA locks that were in place and the doors had creaked and opened fractionally.

"We know that some of the Ancients were pretty paranoid about others stealing their research and went to pretty extreme lengths to keep prying eyes out," the Canadian had said by way of explanation. "This Gemæd guy must have been onto something good."

After another twenty minutes, Rodney had been able to get the doors to open fully for both him and Sheppard. As the team had stepped forward, they had slammed shut. Surprised, they backed away and found that the entrance had swished open again.

After a couple of experiments, they had discovered that the outpost wasn't going to let Teyla or Ronon in regardless of how they tried. McKay had muttered something about the ATA gene, but had scowled at his own suggestion and started digging around with the control panel.

That had been almost an hour ago, and John was starting to get bored of waiting. "How much longer, McKay?" he snapped.

"Look, I know I'm the smartest guy in two galaxies, but there are some things that even _my_ unrivalled genius can't manage within a John 'I-have-the-patience-of-a-two-year-old' Sheppard designated time span," Rodney spat back. "This is a little more complicated than 'plug in and go'! Just… just-just shut up and give me five more minutes, okay? It's not going to kill you. I think I've almost got it, but I want to be _sure_." He returned his attention to his small data pad and started to type rapidly.

The others exchanges worried glances. They were used to the physicist being hot-tempered, arrogant, egotistical – well, typically 'McKay' – but this rant had held an odd undertone. His normal self-confidence seemed to have been replaced by hesitance and uncertainty, and that didn't sit well with Sheppard at all.

Ever since the whole, sorry mess of the Doranda incident (as it had become known), Rodney had often doubted himself and his abilities, often seeming reticent about providing an opinion and John felt partially responsible. The 'trust' comment he'd made hadn't really helped matters, but despite that fact, that they were more or less back to normal as far as their friendship went.

The Air Force man was proud of how hard his friend had worked at mending the damage from the wake of Arcturus. He'd even managed to regain Sheppard's trust, proving that it wasn't misplaced time and time again.

However, even after almost a year, he could see that the after-effects of destroying three-quarters of a solar system and nearly killing himself and his best friend were nevertheless taking a toll on McKay. It was as if Rodney had lost part of the spark that made him fundamentally McKay, and that bothered John more than he could say. He honestly believed that the physicist had recovered and hearing the doubt in his voice had forced the Air Force man to re-evaluate that notion.

Of course it didn't help that Rodney felt guilty about draining their ZPM to send 'Rod' back home. Sheppard had heard about the lecture Weir had given the scientist and he'd had more than a few choice words to say to the leader of the expedition over that. After repeating those words (wisely choosing to omit the bad language), he had persuaded her that McKay had done the right thing. The Canadian, however, wasn't convinced.

Once they were done with this mission, he was going to have a serious talk with his scientist.

Teyla drew closer to the physicist and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Rodney?" she asked. "Is there anything we can do to assist you?"

McKay scrunched up his face in frustration. "As much as I appreciate the offer, I'm afraid not," he replied. He sat back on his haunches and motioned to the others. "You know I thought the problem might be ATA related?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ronon grunted. "You said it was because Teyla and me don't have your super-gene."

"It looks like that's only part of it."

John chuckled. "You're admitting you've been beaten?" he asked, quirking up an eyebrow mischievously. "Hell, Rodney, that's gotta be a first!"

"Just shut up and listen for a minute!" the Canadian snapped. "The DNA locks that I thought I'd cracked are actually extremely complicated… and over-sensitive. It appears that Gemæd was _really_ security conscious." He gave Sheppard a stern look, holding up a finger. "And I never said I was beaten. I just wasn't fully informed."

"So we're stuck?" growled Ronon.

"Not exactly."

"McKay!" Sheppard barked, not in the mood for Rodney's usual games.

"Look, the security measures can't be disabled from out here. That's what I've spent the last hour trying to do." He smiled ruefully before continuing, "It just means that we can't all get in _at the moment_." His gaze switched to the doors and the smile was replaced by a withering glare. "The outpost won't let Conan and Xena in because it doesn't recognise _you_," he pointed to the Satedan, "and because it's picked up on _your_ Wraith DNA." He looked at the Athosian with an almost apologetic expression. "It thinks you're a threat."

"What are you saying, Rodney? It thinks that Teyla's a full-on Wraith?" asked John.

"Something like that. I've been trying to convince it otherwise, but the damn thing won't have any of it."

"Okay, then. It seems simple enough," Sheppard said. "Me and Rodney will have a look inside. _We're_ still okay to get in, right?" he added, with a quick glance at the physicist.

McKay nodded. "Since we've got the ATA gene, we've got no problems." He gave a humourless smile. "Even if mine _is_ artificial…"

"You wish us to remain here?" asked Teyla.

John sighed. "For now. Like Rodney said, there's no way the outpost's gonna let either of you in until he works his mojo. Let's just hope that he can fix the damn thing from inside."

"Hey, I know I'm good, but since when am I MacGyver?! And _he_ is standing right here, you know."

"We'll take a look around out here," Ronon said. "Might be that there's another way in that we don't know about. Maybe an unlocked door or hole we missed earlier."

"Okay!" John grinned happily. "Stay on the radio just in case."

"Why do you have to say things like that?" Rodney moaned. "That's almost as bad as Elizabeth saying 'good luck' before a mission!"

The Colonel rolled his eyes in an almost perfect imitation of the scientist. "Jesus, McKay! You're worse than my grandma!"

"Hey, little man," Ronon said, clapping his team-mate on the back, "think of it like this. Things can't possibly get any worse can they?"

Rodney paled slightly then glowered at the ex runner. "Oh, that's great. We're now officially doomed. Thanks!" He started to pack up his gear. "And don't call me that! I am _not_ that little!"

"Shouldn't call me Conan then."

"Let's just go, shall we?" suggested John, in an attempt to break up the forthcoming argument before things got bloody. "If all goes well, we'll meet you inside."

The team split up and once Teyla and Ronon were a good distance from the doors, they sprang open. Exchanging a glance, Sheppard and McKay clicked on their flashlights and headed in.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: A Talent for Trouble**

"Uh, Rodney? Are you sure you should be screwing around with that?"

McKay sighed and turned around to face John. "Look, Sheppard, despite what you might believe, I _do_ actually know what I'm doing. I need to activate this console to see if I can get the power back online. Hardly what I'd call 'screwing around'…"

Inside, the corridor where they were currently standing was dimly lit by what appeared to be emergency lighting – it was similar to what they had on Atlantis, only slightly weaker. The red, migraine-inducing tint made everything look like a set from a bad horror movie and Sheppard kept expecting some monster or other to leap out at them from around a corner. According to McKay, the building was in some kind of power-down cycle, trying to conserve energy: much like a television on standby.

Thus the reason why the lights were poor and the boys were using the flashlights on their P-90s.

The Colonel estimated that they were about twenty or so feet underground. When they entered the outpost, they had found themselves in little more than a large but empty hall. Sensing their ATA genes, the building had tried valiantly to turn itself on but only managed the dim lights that gave both men a headache. However, part of the floor had suddenly shifted to reveal a long ramp that led down into the structure's bowels. They had briefly investigated three levels so far and were currently on the fourth, but there was no way of knowing just how big the place was until Rodney got the power back online. What was clear, however, was the fact that they wouldn't be able to explore the entire building on their own.

That was when McKay had finally had enough and set about trying to coerce the place into activating.

"So, why's it not turning on properly for either of us?" asked John.

Rodney counted to ten under his breath, convinced that the Colonel was only playing dumb to wind him up. "The outpost is in a 'sleeper' mode," he explained for what felt like the hundredth time. "What that means in basic terms is that the power source is only running the bare essentials, as far as the systems go, in order to conserve energy. Until I can take a look, I won't know how much power we have to play with."

"So there's a chance there isn't that much juice then."

"Give the man a biscuit," the Canadian replied, grinning. "In an ideal world, I'd come back with a small team and a couple of Naquadah generators, but we don't really have the time."

"And there's only, what, about two dozen or so of your department with the gene?"

Rodney nodded. "Unfortunately, Carson's gene therapy hasn't worked as well as we'd hoped on the new intake. Most of my teams that _are _blessed with the gene are either at the Alpha Site on repair duty or laid up with that damn bug." As he spoke, he finished prying the cover from the console. "Can you shine your light over here? I need both hands to do this." He waved his fingers to illustrate his point.

Sheppard obliged, turning so that his flashlight was illuminating the console. It looked to be an absolute mess – there were wires everywhere, some of which looked to be nearing the end of their life span, and a half dozen control crystals. Even though he wasn't an expert, John could see that more than half of them were unlit and that usually meant busted. "Looks like someone had some real cowboys in here," he said, giving a low whistle.

McKay nodded in agreement. "It's a complete shambles." He tugged a couple of wires out of the way and pulled out what John assumed was the main control crystal: mainly because it was larger than the others and more or less in the middle. Rodney held it up to the light and sighed – there was a massive crack running down the centre of it. "Broken," he stated gloomily.

"Can you fix it?"

"No. I'd need to replace it, but I don't have any spares with me. I might be able to work around it, make some sort of bypass, but it'll take a while."

Sheppard grimaced. Rodney's definition of 'a while' was often radically different to his own, and he wasn't about to ask for a time span – especially not after the 'arbitrary numbers' speech that he'd received on Asuras. Regardless, they only had a couple of hours to complete the search before their designated check in and the pilot didn't want to waste it while McKay performed the scientific version of heart surgery.

A thought struck him and he suddenly realised they could potentially kill two birds with one stone. "Is this the only place you can do this from?" he asked. "I mean what about the chair? You said there was supposed to be one here, didn't you? Can you use the chair to…?" He trailed off, looking at the physicist with a hopeful expression.

Rodney paused, tilting his head and drumming his fingers against the discarded casing as he thought. "I'm not sure." He reached out and grabbed his data pad from his backpack, typing furiously. "I just need to take a look at the outpost schematics…" He smiled as he called up the blueprints. "We need to get here," he said, pointing to a room further down into the complex. "I should be able to fix everything from in there – it's like the control room back on Atlantis."

"Define 'everything'. And what about the chair?"

Rodney stood up, stretching his back and shoulders. John visibly winced as he heard his friend's joints cracking. McKay really needed to spend less time hunched over a computer, he decided. It just wasn't healthy.

The physicist turned to Sheppard and started ticking off his fingers as he spoke. "Lights, doors, security – you name it. I might even be able to see if there are any spare Zed PMs lying around." He tilted his head at the American, with a bemused expression on his face. "You really are obsessed with things that go boom, aren't you? The chair is deeper into the complex, about five levels down from where we are now. Let me get the security system disabled, and then we can go on a hunt for spare drones, okay?"

"Okay," replied John, feeling both relieved and tense. The odd feeling he'd had earlier was back with a vengeance now that they were actually inside, and he couldn't shake it off. Instead, he chose to ignore it – a decision that he would later regret. "You know which way to go?"

"Please, Sheppard, I happen to have an excellent sense of direction," the Canadian shot back.

"So says you, the man who got lost trying to find the kitchens."

"It was dark! And besides, that was only a week into the expedition. As I recall, _you_ were the one who had to be shown the way to my lab on three separate occasions – by _Kavanaugh_!" He narrowed his eyes. "So you'll forgive me when I say there's no way in hell that I'm letting you lead in here. Let's face it: your shortcuts are dangerous."

"It was one time! And I said I was sorry!"

"You led us into the secret underground lair of megalomaniacal freaks with plans for galactic domination! I don't think 'sorry' quite cuts it!"

"Ah, c'mon, Rodney! That was two years ago…"

"No! End of discussion! I'm navigating."

"_Rod-ney.._."

___________________________________________________________________________

"Why can't I just blow the doors up?"

Ronon was bored, hungry and frustrated – and that usually meant that he was in a bad mood. Today was no exception. The ex-runner was pacing and growling under his breath. He looked like a time bomb waiting to explode.

Teyla couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her lips. She looked over at Ronon and raised an eyebrow. "For a start, it would not work."

"Be fun trying though," the Satedan grunted. "It beats this." He waved a hand around dismissively.

'This' was exploring the perimeter of the outpost, trying to find a back door into the building. Or, failing that, an opening from age and weather abuse. The building had seemed to be in one piece, but there was a slight chance that it wasn't as solid as it appeared. They had found a couple of entrances, but neither had opened and frustration was beginning to set in.

"Although I am sure that it would make you feel better, I do not think Rodney would approve of that particular method," the Athosian replied, pulling at some overgrown vines that were obstructing what seemed to be another doorway. "And it might cause a considerable amount of damage."

Ronon grinned, and helped her to tug away the vegetation. "Don't care," he said. "I'm bored and I don't like being split up." Another swift yank at the vines. "It worries me."

Teyla sighed. "I know. Both the Colonel and Dr McKay seem to have a… _talent_ for finding trouble."

The last of the vines fell away to reveal a small panel. Exchanging a look, Teyla reached forward and pressed the panel. Nothing happened.

"Can I _please_ shoot it?"

"No." She reached up to click on her earpiece. "Colonel Sheppard, Dr McKay? Do you read me?"

"_Loud and clear, Teyla,"_ John's voice crackled back over the radio. _"Had any luck yet?"_

"I am afraid not. Every door we have encountered has been as uncooperative as the first. How are you progressing?"

"_Well, we're still trying to turn the main power back on. Rodney thinks he can over-ride everything from some sort of control room further inside the complex. We're heading down there now. This place is like a damn maze…"_

"_I don't THINK, Sheppard, I KNOW,"_ McKay's voice snapped back, cutting the Colonel off. _"God, you're infuriating. And we're not going to get lost!"_

Teyla and Ronon exchanged smiles. For all their bickering and verbal fighting, they knew that the two men were extremely confident in the other's abilities. "That is good to know," she replied, "but you might want to consider hurrying up. Ronon is becoming agitated."

"_You mean he wants to blow something into bits with that blaster of his, don't you?"_ That was McKay again_. "If you're listening, you over-sized, trigger happy caveman, you are NOT allowed to shoot at anything unless it's trying to maim, eat or kill you. Especially not the doors! NO SHOOTING AT THE DOORS! Is that clear enough?"_

"Just wait 'til you come back out again, little man," Ronon growled, grinning at the Athosian. "You're just being brave 'cos I can't get in there to hurt you."

"_Teyla, for the love of God, don't let him blow anything up. We're still inside after all and being blown up by an armed and dangerous Neanderthal isn't high on my list of 'Things I'd like To Do To-"_

There was what sounded like a thump and a muffled curse over the radio, and then John spoke again. _"Children, that's enough!"_ he said in a commanding tone (although Teyla could hear the smile in his voice). _"If you can't play nice then I'm gonna take your toys away."_

"Like to see you try, Sheppard," muttered the ex-runner. He looked at the control panel. "Can I just smack it a bit? I promise I won't shoot it."

"_NO!"_ snapped McKay. _"And seriously, OW! That HURT, Sheppard!"_

"_It was MEANT to, Rodney. Look, Ronon, I know you and Teyla are both frustrated, but give us fifteen minutes to see if McKay's plan works."_

"And if it does not?" asked Teyla.

"_Well, then you have my permission to blow the crap out of the main doors, big guy."_

"_Colonel!"_

"_Stow it, genius. Besides, you'll get everything working in no time at all. You always say you work best under pressure."_

"_That is SO not fair! Like I said earlier, I am NOT MacGyver!"_

"_Never said you were. And none of us were seriously thinking that anyways."_

"Very well," the Athosian interrupted before the physicist could launch into another rant. "We will wait until we hear from you again."

"_Okey-doke. Sheppard out."_ The radio crackled off.

"Looks like we're waiting then," Ronon grumped.

"Indeed it does," Teyla replied. A wicked smile lit up her face. "Why not take out some of your aggression on the trees over there?"

"You know, that's not such a bad idea," the ex-runner replied, nodding his head. "I feel a sudden urge to blow the crap outta something."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Just a Feeling**

"You wanted to see me, Elizabeth?"

Weir looked up from her laptop and saw Carson Beckett hovering in the doorway to her office. She gave him a smile and motioned to one of the empty chairs in front of her. "I did, Carson. Please have a seat."

The physician complied and nodded a greeting to Major Lorne, who was already settled.

"Afternoon, doc," he said.

"Major." Carson turned his attention back to Elizabeth, studying her closely. He could see the small worry lines creasing her face and his heart started to thump a bit harder. "What was it you wanted?"

She let out a deep sigh and switched the laptop off before looking up at the two men. "As you know, Colonel Sheppard and his team are currently off-world investigating an Ancient outpost."

Beckett and Lorne nodded. "Yes, ma'am," Lorne replied. "Dr McKay said something about Zee PMs when I saw him in the locker room. He seemed pretty excited about it." He grinned. "Kinda made me wish it was _my_ team going."

"Oh, Lord," Beckett muttered. Whenever Rodney was worked up about something, it usually meant trouble with a capital 'T'.

"That's correct," Weir said, a wry smile playing on her face at the soldier's description of the physicist. "The outpost is apparently capable of creating them."

"So what's the problem, love?" asked Beckett, his face creasing up with confusion. "Have they missed a check-in?"

"No, nothing like that," she replied quickly, seeing the small flash of fear in the Scotsman's eyes. "But I'd like you to have a medical team standing by."

"Aye, I can do that," Carson said, still feeling anxious. "Why though, if you don't mind my asking?"

Elizabeth gave him a small grin. "Well, you know John and Rodney. They have a… unique track record. No doubt one or more of them will come back injured in some way."

Beckett nodded. The amount of time SGA-1 spent in his infirmary was a worry – it seemed like every time they went off-world, the Pegasus Galaxy decided to have a pop at them and it had only been a couple of months since the last incident. McKay had not long recovered from his broken ankle, and this was the team's first official mission back after the injury-enforced break.

"And I'd also like you to have your team on stand-by, Major."

Lorne nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'll need to recruit a couple of the lads though. Dr Grace is at the Alpha site with the repair teams and Jameson and Kemp are down with this stomach flu."

Captain Anderson and SGA-11 had returned to Atlantis from a mission presenting what appeared to be symptoms of a cold. Twelve hours later, however, all of them were back in the infirmary with sickness, diarrhoea and fever which the Scotsman had quickly diagnosed as gastric flu – or the Pegasus version of it at least. When more personnel were admitted with the same symptoms, it became clear that not only did the illness have an alarmingly short incubation period, but was highly contagious.

Luckily, a small number of the expedition (including the occupants of Weir's office along with SGA-1, 4 and 15) appeared to have a natural immunity. The sickness hadn't been a big enough threat to trigger the lockdown, but Carson wasn't convinced that was altogether good – it could have prevented the bug from infecting a significant percentage of the populace and saved him a lot of grief.

Although the recovery time was fairly quick, the medical staff were being pushed to their limits by the sheer number of people who were ill. The infirmary was full to bursting and several larger spaces had been commandeered as overflow.

"Seems like half the expedition's got it at the moment," Carson muttered tiredly. He'd spent most of the night taking in new admittances and trying to find room for everyone. "It's a nasty bugger."

"Major, you can take whoever you can find. I'm sure that there are more than a few marines who'd be happy to help out."

"Thank you ma'am." A thought crossed Evan's mind. "Uh, you don't think they're in trouble do you? I mean, it wouldn't be the first time," he added with a rueful smile.

"No, it wouldn't," Weir replied. "Let's just say I have a feeling."

"Female intuition, lass?"

She grimaced. "Something like that."

The two men got to their feet and headed towards the door.

"Carson?"

"Aye?"

"Could you have your team prepped to go off-world?"

The Scotsman pulled a face – it wasn't any great secret that he hated Gate travel with a passion. "That can be arranged."

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you. I'll make it up to you."

"Aye, lass, you better." He scrubbed at his face with a hand. "I'll accept tea as payment," he said, giving her a look.

"I take it you've run out again?"

Beckett scowled. "It's not me that's been drinking it!" he replied. "I swear my staff knows where I stash it!"

"I'll see what I can do."

Carson grinned and headed out of the office. Elizabeth looked back at her laptop – she was studying the entries that had prompted the mission. As she read through, something in the back of her mind nagged incessantly at her. There was something familiar that she couldn't place.

Sighing, she pushed it aside and continued her reading.

___________________________________________________________________________

As Beckett walked down the corridor, he heard running footsteps behind him. Turning, he was surprised to see Lorne jogging up to him. "Problem, Major?" he asked.

Evan grinned. "Nah, I'm good, doc. I just had a thought is all."

"You want to be careful about that," Carson teased. "It could get you into trouble."

The soldier chuckled. "They usually do," he replied. "I was just gonna say that you should have a word or three with Dr Zelenka."

"Do you know something I don't, son?"

"Only that he'd be a good person to talk to about the combat engineers," Lorne replied. "It's what I'd do, anyway."

Beckett nodded slowly as he considered the idea. "Aye, you may be onto something there."

"Look, doc, I know the Colonel's team have a bit of a reputation so personally, I think it'd be wise to cover all the bases."

The Scotsman squeezed Evan's shoulder affectionately. "Me too. Thank you, lad."

"Anytime," Lorne replied. "Oh, and doc?" he called as Carson started to walk away.

"Yes, Major?"

"You're spending far too much time with Rodney."

Beckett laughed. "Aye, so I've been told."

___________________________________________________________________________

"Carson? What can I do for you?"

Radek studied the physician intently. He had walked into the lab five minutes ago with a pained expression on his face and had been pacing nervously ever since.

"Uh, I don't suppose you're free at all?"

Zelenka looked at his laptop and frowned. He had been working on diagnostics and various other projects – and none of them were anywhere near finished. He was about to reply that no, he was loaded with work that needed to be completed _yesterday_, when he saw something in Beckett's eyes that made him reconsider. He muttered to himself in Czech, before switching back to English.

"I need a break from this," he said, waving a hand in front of the computer. "What is wrong?"

Carson wrung his hands in an almost perfect and slightly worrying imitation of McKay. "I, uh, well, lad, I was just wondering if you could get a team of combat engineers ready."

Radek frowned. "What has happened?" he asked, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was only one team off-world on a mission at the moment. "Is there a problem?"

"Good God, no!" Carson exclaimed. "Call it a hunch. You see, Elizabeth asked me and Major Lorne to put teams on stand-by and we just thought that…" He trailed off, looking sheepish.

The Czech gave him a grin. "You are worried about Colonel Sheppard's team, no?" He knew about the outpost, as he had been with Rodney when it had been found in the database.

"Aye, son. Knowing that Rodney and the Colonel, there's bound to be something that goes wrong."

Radek sighed, mentally cursing himself for thinking 'Arcturus!'. McKay had paid a heavy price from that incident. Still, the Canadian seemed to have learned a lesson and Zelenka was sure that it wasn't going to be readily forgotten. "They have a certain skill for that," he agreed. "If it helps to put your mind at rest, I can have my team assembled in an hour. I will have to recall some of them from repairs, but I am sure Dr Weir will allow me to do so."

Carson's face split into a relieved grin. "Thanks, Radek." He flushed as his stomach rumbled loudly.

"I was thinking of getting some lunch. Would you care to join me?"

Beckett's stomach growled hungrily again, reminding him that it had been a long time since his last meal. Without any let-up in the stomach flu epidemic, he hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before. "You know, I think I will, lad. Mess?"

The Czech nodded and shut down his computer. "Mess."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: User Friendly**

"You didn't have to hit me quite so hard, you know," Rodney moaned as he rubbed his upper arm, convinced that he could already feel a bruise forming. "I happen to need my arms to work and you know I have delicate skin."

"Aw, it was just a tap, you big baby."

"I hate you."

Sheppard grinned. "No, you don't. I'm not apologising, by the way." It grew even goofier as he heard the scientist mutter, "You never do."

They turned around a corner and stopped in front of a closed door. McKay grabbed his scanner and held it up in front of the control panel in order to double check the schematics again. "This is it," he announced as he waved a hand over the sensor. Surprisingly, the doors opened without any complaints and they cautiously walked in.

The Air Force man let out an amused snort. "Well, that was easy enou-"

"Stop right there!" Rodney snapped, reeling around suddenly and pointing a finger at the Colonel. "We've already been jinxed by Conan the Barbarian!" He poked his outstretched digit into Sheppard's chest. "I don't need _you_ adding to it!"

John rolled his eyes. "I can't believe how superstitious you are, McKay," he said, watching as the scientist stepped over to the centre of the room. "Do you have hidden issues or something? You're meant to be a scientist. I thought you didn't believe in all the hocus-pocus stuff."

McKay was walking around in a circle, examining what appeared to be a dais. "I didn't until I first saw a Wraith," he mumbled. "Close encounters with life-sucking alien vampires tend to make you re-evaluate your perspectives." He started to step forward.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Sheppard grabbed hold of the physicist's arm and tugged him back.

"I need to activate this," Rodney said with strained patience, shrugging out of John's grip with a scathing glare that he normally reserved for idiots and Kavanaugh. "If I don't turn it on, I can't sort the power out, meaning that I can't fix the problem with the doors, meaning that Teyla and Ronon _won't be able to get in._" And with that he stepped onto the platform.

Instantly, the room lit up and a holographic screen appeared in mid air, much like the display that the chair back in Atlantis called up. It showed a series of complicated schematics, each one more detailed than the last before coming to a halt on what John assumed was the root directory.

On the platform, McKay swayed slightly and let out a quiet grunt.

"Rodney?"

"I'm fine," came the automatic response.

Sheppard studied the Canadian closely – he seemed to be under an immense amount of strain. Although Rodney's gene was artificial, so far it had worked just as well as his or Beckett's… and certainly didn't have this sort of effect. "Hey, do you wanna swap places?" he asked, not liking the look of distress on his team-mate's face. "You can tell me what to look for."

Rodney shook his head. "It'd take far too long," he explained, sounding vaguely remorseful before muttering under his breath.

John couldn't be sure, but it sounded an awful lot like: 'Thank God I don't have to keep this up all day.' His gut clenched and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He tensed, subconsciously getting ready to manhandle his geek away from the podium if anything bad happened.

McKay concentrated and brought up the power regulation screen. "We're in luck," he said quietly, gritting his teeth slightly from the effort and motioning to the display in front of him. It showed a level bar with segments, the majority of which were fully lit. "The Zed PM that's running this place is pretty much intact, and appears to have quite a large reserve left. I'll try and bring it back online."

"So?" asked John after a couple of minutes. "Is it working?" He looked back out into the corridor and was met with the now familiar sight of dull emergency lights.

"For the love of God, Colonel!" Rodney replied without looking away from the screens. "Just give me a couple of minutes, would you?" He looked at the display and concentrated, typing on the console in front of him. A flare erupted from the corridor and he half turned to see that the lights were now well and truly on. "Hah!" he crowed triumphantly. Both men blinked as they adjusted to the sudden change.

"Nice one, McKay," Sheppard replied, a delighted grin brightening his face. "How about the doors?"

"On it." The physicist shook his head, wincing slightly.

John frowned, his grin twisting into a worried grimace. "You okay there, buddy?"

"Yeah," Rodney said, returning his attention to the display in front of him. "It's… Let's just say that this system isn't quite as user friendly as the one on Atlantis." He took a deep breath and set about trying to mentally shut down the internal security systems.

Without warning, a deafening, high-pitched alarm burst into life – John instinctively clapped his hands over his ears and looked over at McKay for an explanation, only to see his team-mate go rigid.

"Rodney?"

The scientist's face seemed to be contorted in pain and he let out a scream. Without thinking, John rushed forward, mentally screaming 'OFF!' as loudly as he could, and rugby tackled the Canadian. As they crashed to the ground, the alarm stopped and the lights dimmed slightly.

"McKay? Can you hear me?"

Rodney's eyes were screwed shut and a fine sheen of sweat was covering his shockingly pale face. His hands clenched spasmodically at his sides, his breathing coming in fast, ragged bursts.

John shook his friend's shoulders gently, alarmed at how violently he was shuddering. "C'mon, Rodney, talk to me."

McKay let out a strangled sob and cracked his eyes open. "J-Jesus Christ," he whispered, clutching at Sheppard's arm.

"Are you okay?"

The physicist's eyes wildly darted all over the room before settling back on John. He shook his head violently. "C-can't… can't breathe…"

The pilot knew a panic attack when he saw one and tightened his grip. "Yes, you can. C'mon, McKay, you know the drill. In… Out…" He mimicked slow breathing, encouraging his friend to copy him. All the while, he kept holding onto Rodney, trying to ground the panicked man. "Slowly, buddy," he ordered. "I know you can do this."

McKay closed his eyes briefly as he continued to gulp in air, trying to restore his breathing to a more natural pace.

"That's it, you're doing good," Sheppard encouraged. "Slow it down for me."

Finally, Rodney took a deep breath and released it, opening his eyes to see a very worried looking pilot looking down at him. He managed a small smile of thanks before a brutal shudder swept through him.

"Better?" John asked.

"Yeah," McKay panted. "I, I think so."

"Good," John said, sounding relieved. "What the hell just happened?"

Rodney tried to sit up, aided by Sheppard, and grimaced as the room span. He closed his eyes again, willing the nausea away. When he felt it was safe to open his mouth without a return visit from the contents of his stomach, he replied, "Trap."

"Trap?" asked John, crouching in front of him and placing a hand on his shoulder to steady the man. "What do you mean, trap?"

"I mean," said Rodney, opening his eyes again to glower at the American, "it was booby trapped. As in… you know, _booby trapped._ I don't have to explain that as w-well, do I?" He tried to stand up, but found Sheppard pressing him back down. "I'm not gonna break, you know," he muttered in mock annoyance.

"Maybe, but you're whiter than a sheet. Just stay put for a minute. I don't want you fainting on me."

"I don't faint. I pass out m-manfully."

"Yeah, and I'm the Prime Minister of Canada."

"Whatever," McKay groused, although the banter was comforting. After a couple of minutes, his head no longer felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside out, and he looked up at John. "Neural feedback," he muttered.

Sheppard tilted his head questioningly. "What's that?"

"The system was r-rigged to cause an unidentified user to experience n-neural feedback. It's similar to what you g-get from dodgy microphones and PA systems, only in your h-head and about a thousand times more uncomfortable." He coughed. "It's a kind of s-sensory overload." Seeing the Colonel still frowning in confusion, he added, "Think of a flash-bang m-magnified a million times and you'll b-be close."

"Ouch," John winced. "Sounds nasty."

"Yeah, it was." McKay sighed. "Look, can I stand up yet? It's pretty uncomfortable d-down here."

Sheppard studied Rodney closely. He was still pale, but no longer looked like he was about to be sick or pass out, so he relented and gently tugged the man to his feet. As the scientist swayed, he snaked an arm across his waist to support him. "Steady there, McKay."

"I'm okay, Sheppard," Rodney replied unconvincingly. "It was just a b-bit of a shock to the system." He giggled slightly, as if punch-drunk, then shook his head fiercely as if annoyed at his reaction.

"Yeah, well, I'd rather not take any chances." He led them over to the wall, and leant the ailing scientist against it. "So was it this Gemæd guy?" he asked.

McKay nodded. "I think so. The man must have been totally f-fruit loops to have installed something like that. F-freak."

"More like ass-hat," the Air Force man countered.

The Canadian chuckled softly. "The Ancients were p-pretty messed up, w-weren't they?"

"Yeah," agreed John, "they were. The whole damn lot of them. Highly evolved beings, my ass."

Rodney looked across at the Colonel, swallowing heavily – his throat was burning. "D'you have any water?" he croaked.

Sheppard nodded. He'd been waiting for such a request and immediately handed him the canteen, watching as Rodney shakily held it up to his lips. When the shaking became more pronounced, he grabbed hold of McKay's hands to prevent the scientist from dropping it. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked gently.

Rodney looked down at the floor, trying to stop his trembling. "N-no," he admitted after a little while. "I feel l-like a sack of shit, but… it'll probably pass. I just need a c-couple of minutes."

"You got it, Answer Man." Sheppard looked around the room. "So, you can't fix the doors then?"

"N-not unless I want my h-head to explode," he said, giving John a meaningful scowl. "And you're not t-trying it either, Flyboy."

John sighed. "Looks like Teyla and Ronon are gonna have to wait then."

"Not necessarily," Rodney replied. "If we sent them to the Gate, they could dial Atlantis and get Major L-Lorne's team here. They've all got the ATA gene apart from that n-new guy… Jameson, is it?" He waved a shaking hand distractedly. "Doesn't m-matter. With them here, and now that the main p-power's back online, it would speed up the s-search."

Sheppard smiled. "Good thinking." He raised a hand up to his earpiece and explained the situation to his team-mates. They both sounded concerned as he told them about McKay's run-in with the dais and offered to fetch Carson as well – something that John had already been considering. He looked back down at Rodney – who had sunk down to the floor again and was now resting his head against the wall – and agreed. As they ended the communication, he crouched down next to his friend.

"Hey there, buddy. You still with me?"

McKay's eyes seemed glassy and distant, but his colour had improved and the shaking was all but gone. "Mmm."

"Can you walk?"

The Canadian's eyes slowly returned to life as he thought for a moment. "Yeah. The s-sooner we go, the sooner I can download the info and g-get the hell out of this twisted psychopath's lair."

John tugged Rodney to his feet and helped him out of the room. As they left, neither man noticed the small panel that started to glow on the wall where McKay's head had been.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Phoning Home**

Elizabeth sat at her desk in her office, sipping at a cup of Athosian tea. She had felt uneasy about sending John and his team to that planet, but couldn't place the reason why. Maybe it was because they had an alarming ability to return wounded, even from the most mundane missions.

Or maybe it was because she couldn't get the comparison with Doranda out of her head.

Either way, she was worried. More than once, she'd seriously considered taking SGA-1 off of active Gate duty for a while and insisting on them taking a break. God only knew they deserved a holiday, but she was all too aware that it wouldn't have done any good. They were just as likely to get injured in Atlantis or on the mainland as they were on an alien planet.

It was possible that they were jinxed. Maybe the Pegasus Galaxy really _was_ out to get them after all: it certainly seemed that way at times, judging from all the mission reports she'd read. They clearly knew how to attract the worst possible kind of attention, intentionally or not.

Or perhaps they were just really, _really_ unlucky.

Her research had left her with more questions than answers. Certain supposedly key entries didn't make sense, and one section in particular looked like a copy and paste job. Parts of the account had contradicted one another, in a way that wasn't noticeable unless you were specifically looking for discrepancies. Worst of all, she still couldn't shake the nagging feeling that the name 'Gemæd' was familiar. If only she could put her finger on it…

Elizabeth sighed in frustration. She wished that she'd been able to assess the information before sending Colonel Sheppard's team to investigate, but hindsight really was twenty-twenty. She briefly wondered whether Rodney had noticed the discrepancies, but dismissed that thought quickly. Even when he was in one of his hyperactive moods, the scientist was thorough. It was more likely that he hadn't realised: after all, linguistics wasn't his specialist field.

She hated having to put teams on standby and even now, she'd begun to have that familiar, queasy feeling in her stomach. Her fears were confirmed when an alarm sounded and Chuck, the Canadian technician, shouted, "Unscheduled off-world activation!"

Forgetting her tea, she ran from her office. Reaching the technician, she gave him a worried gaze. "Have we received an IDC yet?" she asked, even though she had a pretty good idea of who it was.

Chuck looked at his laptop. "Affirmative, ma'am. We're reading Teyla's IDC."

Elizabeth nodded. "Lower the shield."

The iris hummed as it was turned off to reveal the rippling, shimmering blue of the event horizon.

The Athosian's voice crackled over the radio_. "Atlantis, this is Teyla. Do you copy?"_

"Yes, Teyla, we hear you," Weir replied. "You're not due to check in for another hour yet. Is there something wrong?"

"_Colonel Sheppard and Dr McKay requested that we send for Major Lorne's team." _

That sounded ominous. "Understood. Where are they?"

She listened as Teyla and Ronon recounted the events – the doors not opening for them, the failed attempts at entry – and her heart skipped a beat when they got to the part about McKay's encounter with the dais. "Is Rodney injured?"

"_Not sure,"_ Ronon grunted_. "Sheppard said he was a bit dazed. He doesn't think the little man's got a concussion or anything but he wants the doc to come and take a look at him anyway. Beckett's got the gene, so McKay says he should get in okay."_

"I'll have Major Lorne and Carson with you in ten minutes," Weir said, reaching up to brush away a loose strand of hair. "Is there anything else you need?"

"_No, Elizabeth,"_ Teyla replied and then, seeming to sense the expedition leader's unease, added,_ "I am sure Rodney will be fine."_

"_He's a lot tougher than he looks,"_ Ronon added. _"The little man was talking a bit, so it probably looked worse than it actually was."_

Elizabeth smiled. Despite appearances, the ex-runner respected the physicist and was very protective of him at times. "That's very true." She paused for a moment. "Did Colonel Sheppard say _why_ the system attacked Rodney?"

"_McKay said something about feedback,"_ the Satedan said gruffly. _"Didn't really understand it."_

"_I believe that Dr McKay triggered a… hidden trap when accessing the system,"_ Teyla supplied_. "John said that Rodney had experienced a severe shock."_

"I'm sorry. Did you say 'trap'?" Weir asked, exchanging a look with Chuck, who raised his eyebrows.

"_Yeah. They said it was some kind of…"_ Ronon's voice trailed off as he tried to remember the expression used.

"_Thief deterrent,"_ Teyla supplied, seamlessly. _"It appeared to have been designed by the Ancient who built the facility. Rodney said something about madness."_

'Oh boy,' thought Elizabeth. "Did Rodney seem coherent?"

"_I am not sure. He sounded as though he was in a great deal of pain and John said that he had been feeling dizzy and nauseous."_

"_And that he was shaking a lot."_

Weir swallowed heavily. That didn't sound overly promising. "Okay. I'll have Lorne and Carson with you in a few minutes. See if you can get John and Rodney to meet you outside."

"_We will. Thank you, Elizabeth."_

The Gate shut down and Weir reached up to her earpiece, clicking it on. "Carson? Major Lorne?"

"_Yes, ma'am?"_

"_I'm here, Elizabeth."_

She let out a sigh. "Looks like you're going off-world after all."

___________________________________________________________________________

"I swear to God in Heaven that those two shouldn't be allowed anywhere without a squad of marines," Carson growled as he fiddled with his vest. "In fact, I'm seriously considered finding some kiddie harnesses from somewhere and tying the daft buggers to one of the piers."

"I know how you feel, doc," Lorne sighed, grinning slightly at the mental image of Sheppard and McKay on leashes.

Five minutes had passed since they had received the call from Elizabeth, and both men and their teams were stood in front of the Gate, waiting for the go ahead.

"I don't know about you, son, but I have a bad feeling about this."

Lorne smiled at the Scotsman. It was easy to see why he was so well liked among the expedition members – his laidback, easy going smile, the gentle Scots brogue and general 'everyone's favourite big brother' attitude had an almost immediately calming affect on everyone.

At the moment, however, he looked more like mix between a deer in a truck's headlights and a ball of barely suppressed rage. "I'm sure they're fine," he stated, wishing he could believe it himself. "It's probably nothing. You talked to Zelenka though, right?"

"He's ready and waiting, son."

"Good. My papa always used to say that it was better to be safe than sorry."

Beckett grimaced. He had been told of the symptoms that Rodney was currently experiencing and was worried. There were a number of reasons for the technology in the outpost to react that way, and none of them were very comforting.

The one that instantly sprang to mind made the Scotsman feel guilty – Rodney's artificially imposed ATA gene. What if the system had seen that as some kind of threat? Even with all the talk of booby traps and paranoid verging on insane Ancient scientists, Carson couldn't help but think that if Sheppard had used the dais, maybe he'd have been alright.

Maybe the system thought that McKay was some kind of impostor.

His own experiences with Ancient tech had always made him feel uneasy – the vast amounts of power, quite literally at his fingertips, was both worrying and exhilarating in equal amounts. To have that kind of energy turned on a person _deliberately_… He didn't even want to think about it.

Instead, he concentrated on his primary diagnosis of the physicist. McKay had suffered from what sounded like a massive (and incredibly _angry_) backlash from the outpost's mainframe, which would account for the very bad headache. The shaking and other symptoms were worrying him though. It was possible that it was delayed shock, but that didn't really seem to fit with what he'd been told.

He sighed again, knowing that there wasn't much he could do until he saw his friend.

"I hope you're right," he muttered, clipping his thigh holster in place. God, he hated having to wear a gun. It was just wrong. He was supposed to heal people, not shoot them. But, he reasoned, the security protocols were there for a reason and he certainly wasn't going to waste time arguing about it.

"We're ready to go, ma'am," Evan called up to from the Gate room floor.

"Understood, Major. Be careful, please."

"You got it," he replied with a reassuring grin and quick salute.

As Chuck finished dialling the Gate, the event horizon burst forwards before settling into the familiar blue pond.

As one, the two teams stepped forward…

…And, seconds later, were met on the other side by Teyla and Ronon.

"Dr Beckett," the Athosian said, grinning in relief. "I am glad to see you."

"Aye, lass," the Scotsman replied, shaking off the mild disorientation that Gate travel always seemed to induce. "I can say the same about you. Where are they?"

"Still in the outpost," Ronon said.

Carson growled. "Damn stupid fools!"

"We have requested that they leave, but they are… adamant," Teyla said, shaking her head.

"Sounds like the Colonel," Lorne answered, a wry smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Beckett saw Teyla grimace and put a reassuring hand on her arm. "What is it, love?"

"I am worried for Rodney," she admitted quietly.

"Speaking of the lad, have you heard from him?"

She nodded. "Yes, and that is why I am concerned. He does not sound… _right_."

"He's quiet," the Satedan added. "And Sheppard said that he's been sick a couple of times since we talked to Dr Weir."

"Sweet Mary, mother of Jesus!" Beckett cussed. "Which channel are they on?" he demanded.

Everyone, even Ronon, took a step backwards, shocked by the sheer fury that was radiating from the physician. "Two," the ex-runner said meekly.

"Right." Carson reached up and switched his headset to the correct channel. "Colonel Sheppard? This is Dr Beckett. Do you read me?"

"_I'm here, doc. It's good to hear your voice."_

"Aye, well you might not be saying that once I get my hands on the pair of you!" He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before continuing, "Rodney? Are you there, lad?"

"_Yeah."_

Beckett visibly paled at the sound of the physicist's voice. It was quiet and pained, so not like Rodney, that it frightened him. "How are you feeling?"

"_I'm f-fine."_

Automatic reply? Check. Rodney being less than truthful? Check. That could only mean that he was in a bad way.

"You should know that you're really terrible at lying, Rodney, even if it _is_ over the radio and I can nae see your face" he growled. "Now I'll ask again, and this time I expect an honest reply, or I'll have you grounded for a year. How. Are. You. Feeling?"

There was a pause.

"_Just answer him, McKay."_ That was Sheppard.

A heavy sigh filled his earpiece. _"Gotta headache."_

"Anything else?" From experience, Carson knew that the lack of a quick retort meant that McKay was in a considerable amount of pain.

"_Feel weird."_

And now he wasn't even using complete sentences.

"What do you mean by 'weird'?"

"_You don't know w-what 'weird' means?"_

"A year, Rodney," Beckett warned. "And don't be so bloody facetious," he added as an afterthought.

"_I… I c-can't stop shaking."_

"That's probably shock, lad," Carson said gently, even though he didn't believe it to be the case. "Do you feel cold at all?"

"_I… I dunno. M-maybe?"_ There was another sigh. _"It's like I'm… not quite in control of my b-body or something. I can't… It's j-just weird, Carson,"_ Rodney said plaintively.

"Colonel?"

"_Yeah, doc?"_

"I need you to get him to lie down right now, and cover him with a blanket or a jacket or something. He's not to move until I get there. I'm on my way."

"_Understood."_

Beckett looked over the other two members of Team Sheppard. "After you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Scenes of Mass Destruction**

Agreeing to Carson's instructions had been easy.

Getting McKay to do what he was told… wasn't.

The physicist glowered at Sheppard fiercely as the Colonel asked him to lie down yet again. "I already t-told you I wasn't g-going to break!" he fumed from his crouched position.

"Have you heard yourself lately, McKay?" John asked. "You can barely get a sentence out!"

"Carson's just f-fussing."

"And I have no intention of having Beckett hand me my ass on a plate!" John snapped back. "Dammit, Rodney, just do what the man wants!"

McKay shook his head stubbornly and continued to prod at his data pad. The boys were back in the corridor, two levels up from the control room, and the scientist had hooked up the small computer to another data terminal. "I'm n-nearly finished," he said quietly. "Please, just let me get this d-downloaded then I promise I'll be a good l-little astrophysicist and lie down."

John sighed as he saw another vicious tremor wrack his friend's body. "Why don't you rest for a while and let me keep an eye on it?" he suggested. "I know how to do it."

Rodney harrumphed. "I'm sure you d-do, Colonel, but it'll be two m-minutes tops." He looked back down at the data pad and frowned. "Hang on…"

"What is it?" Sheppard didn't like the look on McKay's face.

"This is w-weird."

"What do you mean, 'weird'?"

"Not y-you as well! Weird. As in strange, odd, p-peculiar, unusual…"

"Don't start that again!"

Rodney snorted a laugh and closed his eyes as another bout of dizziness hit him. He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders and cracked them open to see John holding onto him for dear life. "I'm fine," he muttered. "Just dizzy."

"That's it. You're lying down right now and then I'm finding you a blanket."

"Make me. I'm s-sure a military man such as y-you should be able t-to do that with minimal resistance on my part."

John sighed. "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the time?" A strange look passed across his face. "Please, Rodney, I don't want to have to force you," he said in a quiet voice.

McKay saw the worry in his team-mate's expression and realised that he'd gone too far. "Sorry."

"Come on. The doc'll be here soon."

"Just one more m-minute," McKay replied, still gripping at the computer. His eyes flicked down as he saw Sheppard give a resigned nod, and he focused on the data on the tiny screen. He made a strangled sound.

"McKay?"

Rodney looked back up at him with impossibly wide eyes. "We have to go," he croaked, urgency and panic tinting his voice.

"What are you…?"

"We have to g-go _now_," the Canadian insisted, tugging hard on the pilot's jacket.

John's eyes flicked down to the pad and he paled. "Shit. Is that…?"

"Yes," McKay hissed impatiently. "Stop t-talking and move!"

Abandoning the data pad, Sheppard tugged Rodney to his feet and half carried, half dragged the man down the corridor. As they limped along, he tapped his earpiece. "Lorne!"

"_Sir?"_

Get everyone as far away from the outpost as possible!"

"_But we're almost there, sir."_

"That's an _order_, Major!" John barked. "The drones are about to activate."

"_I'm sorry, sir, did you say…?"_

"Yes, dammit! Now quit talking and RUN!"

"Sheppard…"

John looked across at Rodney, who had gone an odd shade of white. The scientist was shaking so badly that he could hardly keep himself upright.

"Leave me," he whispered.

"No."

"We won't… we won't make it…" Rodney croaked.

"I am NOT leaving you! End of argument!" Sheppard pulled harder, managed to increase their pace slightly. "We're almost there."

As he spoke, an explosion sounded below them on the far side of the complex, presumably as the first of the drones overloaded. Rodney was right – they weren't going to make it. Looking around frantically as another aftershock shook the floor, he spotted a small room to their left. "In here!"

As they staggered through the door, John glowered at it and locked it mentally, knowing that it probably wouldn't do a lot of good against the backfiring Ancient technology. Thankfully, the room was empty save for a couple of small terminals near the entrance. Figuring that they would probably overload, the Air Force man glanced around, looking for cover. He spotted an alcove on the far side and dragged McKay across.

"Not just d-drones," the scientist whispered as his friend manhandled him across the small space.

Sheppard felt his heart leap up into his mouth. "What? What do you mean, not just drones?"

"Chair… Chair's r-rigged… to self destruct…"

Oh boy.

As the building shook with the force from yet another powerful blast, Sheppard tried to shield Rodney with as much of his body as possible. The last thought to go through his head was that death by a booby trapped, exploding building was not something he had ever envisioned.

Then the floor shook, the ceiling rained down upon them and everything went black.

___________________________________________________________________________

"A Dhia," Carson muttered, slipping into his native Gaelic. He fought the urge to either be sick or cry as the group looked at the shattered remains of the outpost. The stones were still smoking slightly and a couple of small fires were just about visible. He absently dusted himself off: the shockwaves from the explosion had sent them all to the ground, even though they were at that point a mile and a half away from the outpost.

"You… you don't think…" stammered a young marine.

Carson wheeled around angrily to face the young man – Captain Ashford. "No, son, I don't think!" he snapped, jabbing the man's chest with a finger. "And neither do you!"

"Sorry, sir," the marine muttered.

Beckett's face softened. "It's alright, lad." He gave the man's shoulder a reassuring squeeze then looked up at Ronon. "I need you to get back to the Gate, big man. Get hold Zelenka for me, and tell him that we'll be needing his services after all. He'll understand."

The Satedan nodded and took off at full pelt back toward the Stargate.

"Dr Beckett?" asked Teyla.

"I asked Radek to have his team of engineers ready just in case," Carson explained.

"Looks like you were right after all, doc," Lorne said, still staring at the wreckage in front of them.

"I wish I wasn't," the Scotsman muttered.

He knew that he should've sent someone else instead. Every time he stepped through the Gate something terrible happened. Then, he mentally slapped himself. That kind of attitude was not helpful. John and Rodney were somewhere in there, most likely injured and in need of medical attention.

"Carson?"

He turned to see Teyla looking at him in concern. "It's alright, lass. Just thinking." He looked over at one of his medics. "Jessie, I want you to go back to Atlantis with Captain Ashford and start prepping surgery. Tell Dr Morrison that we have two cave-in victims with as yet unknown trauma. He'll know what to do."

"Yes, Dr Beckett."

Lorne turned round to face the young Captain. "Right then, Ashford."

"Yes, sir?" asked Ashford, who was shaking slightly. He was new to the Atlantis expedition and still finding his feet. If the Major recalled correctly, this was only his third off-world trip – and he needed men with experience rather than a wet behind the ears newbie.

"I need you to talk to Dr Weir. Inform her of the situation."

"Anything else?"

Beckett ran a shaking hand through his hair. "You've got medical training, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir," the young man replied.

"Once you've briefed Elizabeth, I want you in the infirmary assisting the teams dealing with the stomach flu cases. We'll be short staffed as it is and I need to free up some of my team. If that's alright with you, Major?" he asked Lorne.

Evan nodded. "Not a problem, doc."

"Understood, Dr Beckett." Ashford hesitated slightly before adding, "Sir, I know a few other guys who can help. There was a group of us who all took a field medical course before leaving the SGC."

Carson gave him a brilliant grin. "Good man! Get them over to the infirmary and tell Dr Cole I sent you. She'll get you sorted out and assigned duties."

"Before you do that, find Lt Edison and have him and his team ready to get over here ASAP," Lorne added. "And anyone else who's gotten over the bug."

The marine saluted and set off for the Gate with Jessie.

"What now?" asked Teyla.

"It looks stable enough," said Lorne. "Maybe we should try to start digging them out or something."

"No. We need to wait for Radek and his team."

"But, doc, they could be in serious trouble!"

"I know that, Major!" Carson snarled, rounding on the soldier as his fear got the better of him. "But I can nae be doing with further injuries to either them or us!"

"Perhaps we should try the radios?" suggested Teyla, trying to diffuse the hostility.

Lorne instantly snaked his hand up and tapped his radio. "Colonel Sheppard? Dr McKay? Do you copy?"

There was nothing but static.

Evan tried again, but got similar results.

"Maybe they are unconscious," the Athosian said.

"Aye, I don't doubt that," muttered Carson.

"Either that or the explosions messed with the signal," replied Lorne.

"It doesn't really matter," said Beckett. "We have nae got much time."

___________________________________________________________________________

Pain.

That was the first thing that his brain managed to register as Lt Col John Sheppard came to. He was in pain. Trying to move, he let out an involuntary yelp (which he would later vow and declare was in fact a manly grunt) as he felt red hot spikes shoot through his back and legs. Okay, so it was actually a _lot_ of pain. Not good. Not good at all. Staying still seemed to be a pretty solid idea at that precise moment in time.

As his eyes slowly started to become accustomed to the gloom surrounding him, John realised that he appeared to be lying face down on a cold stone floor. That wasn't very useful by any definition of the word. Then again, he didn't really seem to have much of a choice in the matter – carefully snaking a hand around to his back, Sheppard found that he was pinned under what felt like a large and very heavy slab of rock. On the bright side, he'd found both the source of and reason for his discomfort. Now all he had to do was remember what the hell was going on, where he was and why his team were nowhere to be seen. They wouldn't just leave him here.

Hang on…

Rodney! He'd been with Rodney – or at least, that was what his disturbingly fuzzy head was telling him. Where the hell was he? And why was it so dark? John tried hard to call out, but his vocal chords had picked a damn fine time to go on strike, and all he could manage was a wheezing rasp. As his hand flitted about, he felt his fingers brush past something cold and metallic. Turning his head as far as he could, he managed to make out the distinctive shape of a P-90.

_His_ P-90.

A couple of false starts later, he managed to latch onto it and dragged it closer. After fumbling around with fingers that were not in a particularly co-operative mood – he was going to have to undertake some serious talks with his body later because all this rebelling was _not_ helping, dammit – he succeeded in clicking on the small, mounted flashlight.

The Air Force man almost cackled hysterically over the fact that this time, for once, the bulb hadn't broken. He'd have to tell McKay about this: there had been at least seventeen separate incidents involving P-90s with broken torches that month alone. So, the two men had set up a betting pool with Zelenka concerning who was most likely to bust the next one. Sheppard knew for a fact that the abrasive physicist had put a large bet on him, seeing as the Colonel had been responsible for nine of the breakages.

John was up seventy bucks.

The thought of the scientist was like a kick in the gut and he quickly re-focused his attention to the matter at hand. As a weapon, the P-90 was a remarkable feat of warfare engineering – light, easy to use and deadly in the right hands. As a flashlight, it was a no-good, useless piece of crap that even a toddler would have been pissed with. John strained to see _anything_ in the tiny light, shifting it back and forth as his eyes re-adjusted. The gloom took on an ominous feeling as the beam hit jagged, uneven surfaces, making the shadows jump and flicker. Dust hung in the air, tickling John's nose and throat, and he feebly tried to wave it away, coughing.

That was when he saw McKay…


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Backup**

"Thank God," Beckett breathed as he saw Radek and his team running through the woods towards him.

"Carson," the Czech panted, struggling to catch his breath. He leant over and placed his hands on his knees, drawing in great lungfuls of air. The engineer was not unfit, but had obviously run the three miles from the Gate at full speed. Ronon was stood beside him, with an impressed smirk on his face. He clearly hadn't thought that the wiry little man had it in him.

"Looks like my gut feeling was right after all," the physician muttered, leading Radek over to the crumpled outpost.

"Muj boze," he muttered as he saw the shattered remains of the buildings. He straightened up fully, all discomfort from the sprint forgotten as a horrified expression settled on his face. "They are… they are inside, yes?"

Beckett's throat tightened painfully and he could only manage a small nod.

"We have tried to radio them, but they are not responding," Teyla explained. "Major Lorne believes that the signal is being disrupted by the debris, but they could be unconscious."

"Yes, yes," replied Zelenka, nodding. "It is most likely." Immediately, he turned around and began shouting orders in a mixture of Czech and what sounded like Russian to his team.

They flew into action, setting up gear, getting portable generators running and generally being efficient in their jobs. A couple of men edged closer to assess the damage, swearing softly.

"Major," Radek called, turning to the soldier. "What caused this?"

Evan shook his head. "Colonel Sheppard said something about the drones inside activating."

Zelenka looked puzzled. "I do not understand. That would mean someone had to be in chair, no?"

"Doubt it," Ronon growled.

"Rodney triggered a booby trap earlier while he was trying to fix the security system," Teyla explained. "Is it is possible that they unknowingly activated another?"

"Ano… _yes_," the engineer replied. "Is entirely possible." He closed his eyes briefly, muttering softly in his native tongue under his breath. "Let us hope that there are no more surprises."

Lorne turned to his team and barked out orders to establish a secure perimeter – Teyla volunteered her services and was soon heading off with two of the marines.

"Can you get 'em out?" asked Ronon.

Radek turned around to face him. "I do not know yet," he replied softly, not wanting to get anyone's hopes up. "But we will try."

___________________________________________________________________________

"McKay? You still there, buddy?"

Rodney swallowed and blinked a couple of times. "Just… just about."

"Good man." Sheppard took a quick look at the bandages on the physicist's side. They were dotted with red flecks, but the bleeding seemed to have slowed. One good thing at least. "Remember, you gotta stay awake," he croaked.

"I know…" McKay took a couple of ragged breaths, wincing as the shaking from both his earlier mishap and shock still rocked his body. "Don't… don't feel so g-good," he mumbled.

"Make two of us," John replied. "We've just gotta hold on a little longer. Carson and Lorne will get us out of here soon." 'At least I _hope_ they will,' he added mentally. He bit back a whimper as his back spasmed, screwing his eyes shut and breathing deeply until it subsided.

When he looked up again, he saw Rodney's own eyes closed. "Hey, Rodney! Stay awake!"

Sheppard's growl startled McKay and the physicist jerked then winced as the movement pulled at his injuries. He cracked his eyes open and glowered weakly at his friend. "Dammit, Sheppard. Don't _do_ that! It h-hurts."

John gave him a grin. There was the Rodney McKay he knew and loved – snappy and abrasive. "Well you shouldn't fall asleep, genius." He shifted uncomfortably.

Why did they always have to get trapped in cold, damp stone buildings? Why couldn't they be stuck somewhere warm for once? Was it really too much to ask for?

Sheppard knew that unless help came soon, they were both in a lot of trouble. Although the bleeding had been stemmed temporarily, Rodney had lost an awful lot of blood. That coupled with his head injury, arm and the mental beating he'd taken from that machine earlier meant that the physicist was skirting the edge right now.

McKay was already in shock, and there wasn't much that John could do about it. Even if he hadn't been trapped, there would be no way to get the man warm with the amount of rubble covering him.

As for himself, John was trying hard not to panic. After the initial pain, his entire lower body had gone numb at a frightening speed and his head was still thumping wildly. He was convinced that his ribs really were just bruised – mainly because he wasn't having any difficulties breathing – but was frighteningly cold. 'I am NOT paralysed!' he thought. 'I've trapped a bunch of nerves or something. Maybe it's shock.' He repeated the words over and over, as if they were a mantra or something. He had to stay positive for Rodney's sake.

Pity it wasn't working.

In the back of his mind, the little voice that had been telling him that this mission was a bad idea was now taunting him unmercifully. Why hadn't he listened to it earlier? Why hadn't he just turned tail and dragged Rodney out of there when he'd had a chance?

"John?"

Sheppard looked over at McKay and saw the man staring at him with frightened eyes.

"You okay? You kind of… zoned out there… for a minute."

"Yeah, Rodney, I'm fine." John mentally shook himself as he registered the quiver in McKay's voice. The physicist very rarely called him by his first name – something to do with respectfulness or something – but anytime he did, Sheppard knew that things were bad.

"I… I'm sorry."

"What for?"

Rodney made a strange half sobbing sound. "We… we should have… should have gotten out…"

"Don't go there."

"No, I'm serious. I should've listened… to you." His breath hitched slightly. "Now we're… stuck and..."

"That's quitter talk, Rodney," John replied.

"This is my fault…"

"Stop it."

"We're gonna… gonna die down here…"

"Rodney!" Sheppard barked. "That's enough."

McKay seemed slightly cowed and the shaking took hold of him again. Every time it seemed to last longer, and left the physicist exhausted. He panted as it eased off, clawing the dirt to stop himself from crying out.

John reached over and squeezed his friend's good shoulder. "You're not to blame for any of this."

"But…"

"_No_, Rodney," John said, cutting him off before he could start the self-recriminations again. "It's not your fault that some whacked out Ancient with paranoiac tendencies decided to build a bunch of bombs just to stop people from stealing his work."

Rodney smiled slightly. "Thanks," he whispered.

Noticing that he was on the verge of drifting off again, John decided to have the conversation he'd been trying to instigate for nearly a month. It wasn't an ideal time to broach the subject, but the thought that he might not get another chance was firmly nestled in the back of the Air Force man's mind. "Listen, I just wanted to let you know that what you did for Rod isn't something you should be ashamed of."

"Yeah, I know," the Canadian replied. "But I sacrificed… the lives of everyone… on base to get… get him home. Now we… don't have a… shield…"

"It was worth the risk," John insisted. "He'd have done the same."

Rodney blinked a couple of times before saying, "He was a… better man… than me."

"No," Sheppard said firmly. "Yeah, okay, so he was different to you in a lot of ways. But just because he was nice to everyone all the time and had a…_ distinctive_ outlook on life, it doesn't mean that he was better. Different, yeah, but not better."

"You're just… saying that."

"'I'm serious, Rodney," the Colonel replied. "I know we teased you about a lot of things and that it seemed like we wanted to spend more time with him, but Rod wasn't half the man you are." He sighed, hating how emotional he was sounding. "Dammit, McKay, you drive me absolutely crazy, you know that? You moan about the smallest thing, are stubborn to the point of inciting violence and have some of the worst social skills I've ever seen. But you're my friend – my best friend – and nothing's gonna change that."

Rodney's mouth opened and closed silently for a few minutes as Sheppard's words sunk in. Then he managed to crack a loopy smile. "That's nice," he whispered. "No one's… ever said anything like… that to… me before."

"Then they didn't know what they were missing," John replied. "Now enough of this 'feelings' crap, okay? You know I hate it."

McKay chuckled softly, a worryingly wet sound. "Dumb jock."

"Geek."

"Goon."

"Melon head."

"At least I don't… look like… I've stuck my fingers… in an electrical socket."

John laughed, grateful for the verbal sparring. "You're just jealous 'cos the chicks dig it better than yours," he replied. "Oh, and breathe a word of what I just said to anyone and I'll make your life a misery. I happen to know over a hundred ways to kill you without leaving any marks."

"You never know," Rodney muttered, still smiling, "there's still… time for you. You might get out of this."

"You mean _we_ and _will_," Sheppard insisted.

McKay's smile became rueful. "Yeah…" His eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he went limp.

"No!" John hissed, trying to slap his friend's face. "No, no, no, no, no! Come on, buddy! Don't do this!"

Despite his pleas, Rodney's eyes did not open.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Easier Said Than Done**

"Zkurvysyn," Zelenka muttered angrily as he looked at the geological scans of the outpost and its surrounding terrain.

Lorne winced as he heard the curse. "What's wrong, doc?" he asked, already knowing from the engineer's expression that the answer wouldn't be good.

"This region is unstable," Radek replied. "Will be very dangerous to extract Colonel Sheppard and Rodney." He sighed, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "The good news is that we have located them with the life signs detector and they are both still alive." The unspoken words '_for the time being'_ lingered uncomfortably in the air as the engineer led the soldier over to a nearby laptop, which displayed two small dots close to each other. "Unfortunately, they are buried fairly deeply. It will take time to reach them."

"Time they don't have, right?" asked Lorne.

Radek was spared a reply by a female voice calling for him.

"Dr Zelenka!"

Both men looked up at the sudden cry and saw a young woman racing over to them.

"Dr Alexis?"

"Dr Zelenka," she gasped. "We have… a problem." She bent over and placed her hands on her knees for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

"Take your time, ma'am," Lorne said, laying a hand on her back.

After a few moments, the dark haired girl righted herself. "We have finished the evaluation," she explained, her face drawn tight. "The ground scans indicate that there is a large cavern about a foot and a half underneath the section that Colonel Sheppard and Dr McKay are trapped in."

"_Zatracene!_" the engineer spat, angrily scrubbing at his hair.

Lorne and Alexis winced. For such a seemingly quiet man, Radek had an utterly filthy mouth at times.

"Does your mama know you use words like that, doc?" the Major asked.

The engineer caught their stares and blushed slightly. "My apologies." He looked back to Alexis. "Please continue."

"According to the scans, the roof of the cavern was already quite thin before the explosion." Her face paled. "There is no way to know if it was weakened when the chair detonated."

Lorne briefly wondered where she was from – her accent was definitely Eastern European. "You mean the weapon's chair? I thought it was the drones that went off?"

She shook her head. "It seemed that way at first. We thought that there were secondary explosions caused by the initial detonation, but we have found a small trace of residual radiation. Nothing harmful," she added quickly, seeing the alarm on the Major's face, "but it did not come from the drones. Dr McKay mentioned something about there being a chair like the one we have back in Atlantis, so the only logical explanation is that the chair was somehow responsible for the activation of the drones. I am not sure, but I think it exploded once it had completed its task."

Carson, who had wandered back in time to hear the woman's explanation, closed his eyes and swallowed heavily. "We have to get them out."

"We will," Zelenka replied, "but we have to change our tactics. This new information complicates the issue."

"So we can't just cut them out, then?" asked Lorne.

Alexis shook her head. "No, Major. We can not use any of our heavy duty equipment to cut through the debris. The last thing we want is to cause the crown of the cavern to give way."

"Which means that we can nae have too many people digging at any one time," Beckett growled.

"How about the Daedalus?" asked Ronon, trotting up to them. The Satedan had been skirting around the fringes of the group, feeling useless, uncomfortable and by and large out of place amongst the engineering team. Unless there was something to blow up or kill, he generally felt out of his depth. Not being able to help his trapped team-mates was killing him. "We can get them over here and beam them out, right?"

"Nice idea, big man," said Carson, "but they won't be back in Pegasus for another three weeks."

The ex-runner growled and started pacing, but stopped and held a hand around his earpiece.

Radek felt three pairs of eyes on him. "Okay," he said after a moment. "We must do this old-fashioned way. I will need the lightest equipment we have, nothing over fifty pounds in weight…"

"Everybody shut up!" Ronon bellowed, cutting the Czech off.

Nobody moved or made a sound.

"What is it?" asked Lorne as he walked over to the Satedan's side.

Ronon pointed to his earpiece. "I think I can hear Sheppard." He tapped the device. "Sheppard, this is Ronon. Say that again."

"…_God… thought I'd… get… We… help… Rodney's... won't wake…"_

"Sheppard, you're breaking up!" the ex-runner growled.

"Just stay calm," Carson said over his own radio, hoping that enough of the message got through. "We're going to have you out of there in a jiffy."

"Is there anyway to boost the signal?" Lorne asked.

Radek thought for a moment then grinned. He ran over to the two scientists working on the portable generators and started talking rapidly in what sounded like Russian. Lorne felt a little guilty at not being able to remember their names – the men were nearly always at poker night. They nodded and got to work on whatever it was that the engineer had said.

"I will need someone's radio, please," Zelenka asked.

"Here," said Alexis, immediately handing hers over. "I don't really need it anyway."

The engineer clutched at the radio as if it was a holy grail and beamed at the woman. "Thank you."

The radio was taken to the scientists and in a couple of minutes, was in pieces.

"What is happening?" asked Teyla, who had returned from a perimeter patrol.

"John's trying to radio us," Carson replied.

She frowned at the two Russians and tilted her head questioningly. "What are they doing?"

"Beats me," Ronon shrugged.

"They are adapting the range of the radios," Radek said. "With the generators and a few other small parts, we should be able to… how do you say… to boost signal." He looked back over to his men and they nodded. "Try again please."

Ronon hit his earpiece. "Sheppard, this is Ronon."

"_Good to hear your voice, buddy,"_ Sheppard replied. The connection still crackled with the odd burst of static, but they could hear the pilot's reply clearly.

The assembled group smiled in relief.

"Are you injured, lad?"

"_Uh, 'fraid so, doc. I got a little… squished."_

"Just hold tight, sir," Lorne said. "We're trying to get you and Dr McKay out."

"_I don't wanna rush you and all, but Rodney's in trouble."_ John's voice sounded terse and anxious. _ "He's lost a lot of blood."_

"Can you describe his injuries to me, son?"

Carson listened, his face darkening as the pilot listed the various broken bones and gashes.

"_He keeps passing out,"_ Sheppard continued. _"He's been unconscious for nearly twenty minutes now and he's real cold. I've tried everything I can manage, but he…"_ his voice softened, _"…he won't wake up."_ There was a pause_. "Carson, what do I do? I can't wake him up."_

"Stay calm, Colonel," Beckett replied. "That's to be expected with what he's been through. It sounds like shock and his earlier mishap are taking their toll. His body's conserving energy and that's making him hibernate. Just keep an eye on his breathing and check his pulse regularly. Let me know if there's any kind of sudden change." He pinched the bridge of his nose. They needed to get them out of there now! "Now, how about you?"

There was another long pause.

"Colonel?"

"_Sorry, doc. I, uh, I can't feel my legs,"_ he admitted hesitantly. _"They're trapped under a pretty heavy piece of rock and I can't move it. I don't think I'm bleeding, but I can't tell for sure. I'm a bit banged up, gotta a headache, but otherwise I'm not too bad."_

Carson knew that the pilot was lying – he'd had plenty of experience with the man in that past to know that when John Sheppard used the words 'okay', fine' and 'not too bad', he was in a lot of pain. The situation had suddenly changed from critical to life-threatening in seconds.

"Okay, son. I know it's a cliché, but try and stay calm. If you feel anything odd you tell me straight away. Do I make myself clear?"

"_Message received and understood."_

Beckett turned to the Athosian. "Teyla, can you keep talking to John for me?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied and moved away slightly to offer her trapped team-mate some much needed moral support.

"Radek, we need to get them out now."

The engineer frowned as he saw Beckett's anguished expression. "I know, priteli, but it will be dangerous. The whole place could collapse at any moment." He looked over to his assembled team and sighed.

___________________________________________________________________________

If he hadn't been trapped, Sheppard would have literally jumped for joy when he finally managed to get through to his team-mates. Having been alone, for all intents and purposes, for the last twenty minutes, he was starting to get a little panicked.

Rodney was as still as a rock and looked almost dead. It frightened John to see his best friend so quiet and unresponsive, and not being able to wake the physicist up wasn't helping matters.

"_John?"_

"I'm still here, Teyla."

"_We will get you out. You just have to be patient a little longer."_

He grimaced. He'd lost pretty much all sense of time while stuck in the remains of the tiny room, although he'd finally remembered what had happened. How long had it been since the drones had exploded? What was taking the others so long to get them out? He glanced back at McKay, his fingers pressing lightly at Rodney's neck. There was still a pulse. Granted it was weak and much too fast for his liking, but the fact that it was still there was all that mattered.

He just prayed that it stayed that way.

"C'mon, buddy," he whispered. "I need you to hang on. Keep fighting."

"_John?"_ Teyla sounded anxious. _"John, are you alright?"_

"Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out a bit," he replied, smiling softly as he remembered Rodney telling him off for doing that earlier. "Any idea how much longer this is gonna take?"

"_I do not know. I am sorry. Dr Zelenka and his team are working as quickly as they can."_

That was not comforting and Sheppard fought the urge to scream in frustration. "It's okay. Just… just do me a favour."

"_Of course."_

Sheppard swallowed hard and took a shaking breath. This was _not_ going to be easy. "If… if we don't make it…"

"_Please, John, do not talk that way."_

"This is important," he hissed. "If we don't get out of here, tell… tell Jeannie that I'm sorry."

He remembered the look of fear in Mrs. Miller's eyes as she had spoken to him before heading back to Earth, pleading with him to keep her big brother out of harm's way. "Apart from Maddie and Kaleb, he's the only family I have left," she had told him, her eyes shining with tears. "I've only just found Meredith again. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him…"

"_You will both be fine,"_ Teyla said pulling him back to the present, and John could her voice cracking.

"Please, Teyla. I gave her my word that I'd watch out for Rodney. If things go south, I need you to tell her that I'm sorry. That I tried but I couldn't… I couldn't protect him."

"_I will, John. I promise."_ There was a brief pause. _"You are both fighters. Please hold on a little longer."_

"We'll try, Teyla," Sheppard said. "We'll really try."

There was another pause before the Athosian spoke again. _"Radek is here. He wishes to speak to you."_

The heavy accent of the engineer crackled in his earpiece. _"Colonel Sheppard?"_

Sheppard cleared his throat before answering, "Hey, Z. How's it going?"

"_Slowly, I'm afraid. I need to ask you something, but if you do not know answer, it is not a problem."_

"Ask away."

"_We know that the drones were triggered, but did the chair explode?"_

"Yeah! Rodney said something about it being rigged to blow. I figure it set off the drones then went boom." He coughed as the dust started to accumulate again. "Does that help?"

"_Actually, it helps a lot,"_ Radek replied._ "I believe I have found a way to get you and Rodney out of there,"_ the engineer stated. "_But I need you to do something for me."_

"Sure thing, doc," Sheppard replied. "Just so long as it doesn't involve me having to use my legs."

There was a soft chuckle from the other end. _"Ne, Colonel. You will not have to do anything physical. I need you to use your ears. Listen for any sounds coming from beneath you."_

John frowned. "Beneath me?" he asked. "Why?"

"_Is long story and I will gladly tell it to you later," _Zelenka replied, _"but for now, I need you to listen."_

"Sure thing, Z," Sheppard said, still confused. "What should I be on the lookout for?"

"_Anything that sounds like rock fall,"_ was the more than slightly cryptic reply. _"We are going to start to dig in a few moments."_

Sheppard closed his eyes in relief. "Gotcha, doc. Just do me a favour."

"_Anything you want, Colonel."_

"Dig fast."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Rescue At Last**

Three hours later and the engineers hadn't managed to dig anywhere near as deep as they wanted. The discovery of both the cavern and the chair had complicated the situation and meant that the work had to be carried out slower than anyone liked. It felt like every five minutes, they had to stop and check the scans and ask Sheppard if he had heard anything. The wait for his responses became more and more nerve-wracking, and even the smallest of creaks from the damaged structure made everyone stop.

_Two steps forward, one step back…_

Ronon was stood next to Carson looking ready to explode. He had offered to help with the digging, but his request had been refused. Apparently, he was too heavy – Radek had said something about only using the lighter members of the assembled teams to prevent any excess pressure on the cavern roof. The Satedan knew that it was a sensible idea, but that didn't stop him from being angry about it.

"I hate this."

Beckett regarded the huge man with a sympathetic expression – he too had been made to wait on the sidelines for the same reason. The Scotsman wasn't overweight as such, but there were a number of scientists that were lighter than him and he had to admit that if something went wrong, it would be safer if he was readily available. So, he had reluctantly agreed to stay in radio contact with John to help monitor both his and Rodney's condition.

He offered a wane smile. "I know, lad, but there's not much we can do about it."

The ex-runner shook his head. "I should be doing something," he insisted. "I'm no good when I can't help." He sighed. "Sorry, doc. I just don't like standing still."

Carson patted the man's back. "Aye, it's a bugger, isn't it?"

Ronon turned and smiled back. "Yeah," he agreed. "How're they doing?"

The physician sighed. "I don't know," he admitted softly. "All I'm sure of is that the delay in reaching them won't have done much good."

"They are both strong," Teyla said, stepping over to them. "We must remain positive." She had been granted permission to dig and had been doing so without a break for the last hour and a half. She had only stopped because a sharp piece of rock had sliced her hand open, which she held out for inspection.

"Och, love, that looks nasty."

She shrugged. "I can not feel anything, but it does appear to be bleeding quite heavily." She paused, frowning. "Where is Major Lorne?"

"Check-in," Ronon replied.

Carson pulled out some disinfectant and gently washed the wound out before applying a bandage. "How much further 'til you reach them?"

She shook her head. "I am unsure, but Radek believes that we are close."

"_Doc!"_

The Scotsman's hand flew up to his radio. "Aye, Colonel?"

John's voice was shaking. _"Doc, there's something wrong with Rodney. I don't think he can breathe properly."_

Damn and blast! "Okay, lad, I want you to try and take his pulse for me."

There was a short pause and then the American replied: _"It's getting weaker. I can only just feel it."_

"What's wrong with him?" asked Ronon, looking thunderous.

Carson shook his head at the Satedan before replying, "Colonel, is the debris on his chest restricting his movements?"

"_Hang on, I need to move the torch… Yeah. One of the rocks has shifted a bit. Should I try and get it off him?"_

"Aye, son, but be careful. I don't want you to hurt yourself further."

"_It's okay, Carson. I can reach it from where I am. Just give me a minute and I'll get back to you."_

The three of them waited in tense silence, listening to the soft grunts of exertion coming from over their headsets. Suddenly, there was a cry of pain.

"Sheppard?" Ronon said.

"What's happened?" asked Carson.

"_Ow… Fuck!"_

"John? John, please, you have to tell us what is wrong," Teyla urged.

"_I'm… I'm okay,"_ Sheppard panted. _"I just had a twinge in my back… Moved the rock."_

"Has Rodney's breathing changed?"

"_Yeah, doc. It's a lot better. Damn, that hurt."_ There was a cough. _"I think… I think I can hear movement."_

Not hearing the last part of Sheppard's transmission, Beckett bit his lip as his mind raced through the various scenarios from the pilot's efforts. None of them were promising – he could have slipped a disc, cracked something or perhaps even have crushed one of his vertebrae. He hoped to God that it was just a muscular spasm from being in an unusual position for such a long time.

Sheppard's voice pulled him away from his internal musings. _"Hey! Hey, I can see daylight! We're in here! GUYS, WE'RE IN HERE!!!"_

"Thank God," Carson breathed. Beside him, Teyla and Ronon exchanged relieved smiles.

Beckett and the others ran over to the edge of the wreckage. "Radek!" he called. "Have you found them?"

"Ano, priteli!" the engineer shouted back excitedly. "We have them!"

"Okay, Mike, run and get me two spinal boards, plus the IV lines and bags. Oh, and plenty of blankets, my field kit and a couple of neck braces."

The medic in question nimbly hopped down from the ruins and raced away.

"_Rodney, it's okay,"_ they heard Sheppard say via the radio. _"They found us, buddy. We're finally blowing this joint."_

Radek shouted for rope and as soon as Mike the medic had returned with the requested items, they quickly fashioned two rescue baskets using the stretchers.

"Colonel, I am sending down two men with Carson to help free you," Radek said, as he started to set up a winch. "We will have to make hole bigger, so cover your head as best you can."

"_Not a problem,"_ came the weary reply.

"God, I hate heights," the Scot mumbled.

Ronon grinned as he pulled on his thick gloves. "Don't worry, doc. I won't let you fall."

Oddly enough, Carson believed that.

"Miles, Geoff, I want you to go down to clear rocks from inside," Radek was saying to two of his team. "When you are down there, you will follow Dr Beckett's instructions. If he asks you to do something, you follow his orders."

"Sure thing, Radek," Geoff replied in a lazy southern drawl. "We'll take a look-see and let you know if any tools are gonna be needed."

As soon as the hole was large enough, Radek and Ronon helped the three men into their harnesses. Once the ropes had been secured and moved into place, Carson got ready to abseil.

___________________________________________________________________________

When Beckett set down inside the remains of the room, he was shaking – partly from fear of having to drop down into the small space, and partly of what he would find when he reached the bottom.

John and Rodney were lying close together, both pinned under a lot of debris. Looking around what was left of the chamber, Carson found that he was relieved that Rodney had been so out of it – the space was tiny and even though _he_ didn't suffer from claustrophobia, it was uncomfortable. He dreaded to think how the physicist would have coped if he'd been lucid enough. Still, now that there was a sizeable hole in the roof with fresh air and daylight pouring in, the oppressive atmosphere seemed to fade slightly. Disengaging himself from his harness, he called up to the others.

"Okay, I'm down. Can you lower my field kit?"

Seconds later, his kit was lying next to his feet, and Miles and Geoff quickly followed.

He told the two engineers to wait until he had examined John and Rodney before moving anything – the last thing he wanted was to cause further damage to either of the trapped men. He knelt down next to Sheppard. "Hello, son."

"Hey, doc," John replied with a small grin. "Good to see you."

"Likewise, Colonel. I'm just going to have a wee look at you." He moved to check the pilot's pulse but found Sheppard's hand clamped around his wrist.

"Rodney first," John said, seeing the questioning look on the Scotsman's face. "Seriously, doc, I can wait a couple of minutes."

"Okay," Beckett replied quietly, smiling at the American's selfless gesture. He shifted around and took in the sight before him. McKay was a mess. Carson winced when he saw the physicist's mauled left arm and tutted as he examined the head wound. He gingerly felt the fingers of McKay's left hand – they were cold, but he could still make out a radial pulse. "Och, lad," he whispered as he applied a small dressing to the cut just above the physicist's temple. "Why do you always come off worse?" He checked Rodney's pulse and breathing, and, apparently satisfied, turned back to John. "Your turn," he said.

This time Sheppard relented and allowed the physician to examine him. "Can you feel anything?"

John shook his head gingerly. "No. Is that bad?" he whispered.

For a moment, Carson saw the fear in the Colonel's eyes and laid a hand on his arm reassuringly. "I can nae promise you anything, lad," he said, "but there's a strong chance that the damage is purely muscular. Are there any shooting or stabbing pains anywhere?"

"No."

"That's good." Checking the pilot's lower body, he was relieved to find no blood anywhere. He felt around John's right leg – it was swollen badly, but the bone hadn't pierced the skin. "You're not bleeding, so hopefully, we'll just be dealing with a straight forward fracture to your leg." He looked up at the engineers and nodded. "Okay, lads, off you go. But be careful and take it slowly. If you're asked to stop, I expect you to do so immediately. Colonel, if anything hurts while they're working, you just holler."

As the men began to clear the detritus, John nodded before looking back at McKay – and beamed when he saw that the man was finally awake. "Hey, buddy," he said. "Nice of you to join us."

Carson was by his side in an instant. "Rodney? Can you look up?" He pulled out a penlight and flashed it in front of the scientist's eyes. Whatever the reaction had been, it was obviously not the one the doctor had been looking for. Grimacing, he held up a finger. "I want you to follow my finger," he said, waving it back and forth in front of McKay's face.

Even from his awkward position, John could see that something was wrong with the way Rodney's head sluggishly followed Beckett's hand, his eyes not tracking properly.

"Do you know where you are?" Carson asked.

McKay's brow creased. "C-Cars'n?" he croaked.

"Aye, mo chara, it's me."

"Hurts…"

"I know," Beckett soothed, "but we'll have you on your good drugs soon."

"Where… where's John?"

"I'm here, Rodney," Sheppard croaked, reaching a hand out and placing it on his friend's shoulder.

Rodney managed a weak smile. "Hey…" he whispered.

"Hey, yourself." John's throat felt tight and he blinked furiously. "You need to stop doing this, y'know. It worries the doc."

"So… so do… you… Hotshot," McKay replied.

That was the last thing that John heard as his final reserves of adrenaline ran out and blackness overcame him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Gemæd**

_Beep, beep, beep…_

That was starting to get annoying. He was hovering in that weird place between being asleep and waking up, and he desperately wanted to remain in the former condition. He was warm and surprisingly comfortable, feeling himself drifting again.

_Beep, beep, beep._

Damn sound! Not only that, but now there were people talking, much too loudly for his liking. What was wrong with them? Couldn't they see that he was trying to sleep?!

A memory flitted through his mind – blood, rubble and seemingly endless explosions. Confused and panicked, he struggled to get up, to open his eyes…

"Rodney?"

He knew that voice. Strong hands held him down and unthinkingly, he started to fight.

"Ronon, get Beckett!"

"Get… get off…" he whispered. "Gotta get… out…"

"Rodney, lad? Can you hear me?" asked another voice, with a strange, lilting accent.

"I think he's dreaming, doc."

"C'mon, little man. Open your eyes."

He tried with all his strength and was rewarded when his eyes cracked open fractionally. Blurry figures stood in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a harsh gasp.

"Easy, son. You're safe now."

Blinking, he found Carson staring down at him.

"Cars'n?"

"Aye, Rodney, that's my name." He smiled warmly and produced his pen light, flashing it in McKay's eyes, much to the annoyance of the physicist.

"Dammit, pack it in!" the Canadian groused weakly, trying and failing to push the offending item away.

"Feeling better then?" asked John, grinning at him from his own cot next door.

"Mmm," McKay replied non-committally before letting out a relieved sigh. He was in Atlantis and therefore safe. John was safe too, and for the time being, that meant that all was right with the world. "How… how long have I been out?" he asked, wincing as his throat twinged painfully.

Teyla stepped closer with a cup of ice chips. "You have been unconscious for almost a week, Rodney," she replied softly, placing a chip into his mouth. "We were all very worried." Behind her, Ronon pulled a face.

"I wasn't," the Satedan replied. "I knew he'd wake up eventually. His stomach won't let him stay down for long."

"That's very funny," Rodney muttered, but smiled softly as he saw the grin on his team-mate's face. He glanced across to John's bed, wincing as the stitches in his head pulled uncomfortably. "You okay?"

Sheppard smirked. "Yeah, McKay, I'm good." He let out a relieved sigh.

When Rodney hadn't woken up, fear and panic had gripped him tightly. He'd feared the worst when Carson had told them that the Canadian was in a coma, but apparently, it was the least of their problems.

Not surprisingly, both men had internal bleeding and cracked ribs. McKay had been in surgery for over twelve hours – once they'd managed to re-start his heart. The trip back through the Gate had been too much for the scientist's abused body to take and he'd coded when they arrived back in the city. Carson and his team had worked their voodoo magic though, and after the surgery, it was the familiar waiting game to see when Rodney would open his eyes.

The first couple of times, the man hadn't really been awake as such, but John didn't care. As far as he was concerned, it meant that McKay would be alright.

The Colonel marvelled at the faith possessed by the Scotsman. No matter how bad the situation seemed, Carson was always optimistic and had pulled off more miracles than John could recount. It still amazed him at how calm Beckett was whenever he had to treat his friends – the professional mask would slam down and the only hint of worry and concern would be a small glint in the physician's eyes. Sheppard doubted that he'd be able to act so rationally if their roles were reversed.

"What… what about your legs?" asked Rodney, looking concerned.

John smiled. "Broke the right one, but it was neat. I'll be on crutches for a while, though." He grinned mischievously. "Still, that means that I'll have an extra weapon handy."

"Your back's okay, then?" McKay was struggling to keep up with where the conversation was headed as his body started to rebel.

"Colonel Sheppard will be up and about in no time," Carson assured him. "The rock fall just caused some deep muscular bruising and inflammation of his spinal column."

"But… but you said you couldn't feel them," Rodney insisted, groaning slightly as a spark of pain shot through his shoulder.

"Trapped a nerve," John replied. He looked at his friend closely, worried by what he saw. "Doc?"

"Aye, lad, I saw." Carson was leaning down over Rodney in an instant, concern darkening his face. "Rodney? Is your shoulder sore?"

McKay rolled his eyes. "No, it's just peachy thanks," he snapped. "Sorry," he added as he realised that his last sentence had come out slightly more vehemently than he'd meant it to.

Beckett produced a needle and injected the contents into the scientist's IV line. "There you go, son. Some of the 'good drugs' you and Colonel Sheppard seem to like so much." He gave them a knowing grin.

Rodney sighed in relief as the medication kicked in. "That's better," he mumbled. "Feels good. So come on then. How bad is it?"

Carson chuckled. "You won't be terrorising your minions for a while, I'm afraid. You've broken your left arm and dislocated the shoulder too."

Rodney glanced down at the heavy plaster cast surrounding his arm and frowned. That was going to be a right royal pain in the…

"Not to mention the fifty stitches that are holding your side together," added John, trying to sound light-hearted.

"You will be fine," Teyla assured him, gently smoothing down his wayward hair. "You have also had a concussion, but you will be well enough to leave in a few days."

"What about that… head thing?" asked Ronon. "You know," he added, seeing the puzzled looks from his friends, "the machine that scrambled the little man's brain?"

"It didn't scramble anything," Rodney grumped. "I'm still just as smart as before." He looked at Carson nervously. "I am, aren't I?"

"Aye, Rodney, you're still a genius." The physician sighed and shoved his hands into his lab coat pockets. "From what Radek was able to gather, the dais that you activated was a deliberate trap. He said that in order to access the deeper parts of the outpost, it would have to be activated to restore the power."

"I already know that part, thank you."

Beckett looked skyward, as if praying for some kind of divine intervention. "It would have caused a similar effect in anyone carrying the ATA gene, but to a lesser degree."

"Hang on, doc," Sheppard interrupted. "You're saying that it messed Rodney up so much because his gene is artificial?"

Carson nodded. "Precisely. It would have given _you_ a shock if you'd tried it, but because Rodney's gene is not natural, it caused the infernal machine to react more violently." His eyes narrowed and he glared at McKay pointedly. "You were lucky, son," he said quietly. "If Colonel Sheppard had nae have tackled you when he did, we would nae be having this conversation. As it stands, the trembling you were experiencing has already worn off and the headache should ease in a few hours."

McKay paled at the thought and swallowed heavily. "Whoa," he muttered, picking absently at the hem of his blanket. "I guess I should thank you then."

John grinned. "'S alright, McKay. You can make it up to me."

Rodney did not like the sound of that. "I'm not doing your laundry, Sheppard," he growled. "Or any other menial tasks for that matter. I only have so much gratitude, you know. And besides, I'm injured here, pal." Turning back to Carson, he gave his friend a worried look. "There aren't going to be any lasting effects or anything, are there?"

The Scotsman shook his head. "No. You'll be back to normal in no time. Well," he smirked wickedly, "as normal as you can be, anyway."

Everyone laughed as Rodney muttered obscenities involving sheep under his breath.

"Right then. You've seen him and the Colonel, so shoo," Carson said, flapping his arms at Teyla and Ronon. "Go on with you. They need to rest. You can come back later."

Teyla turned and started to walk out of the infirmary, but Ronon bent down next to McKay. "Get well, little man," he said quietly in a rare display of affection for his team-mate. He dug into a pocket and produced a tub of blue jello and a spoon. "Snagged it for you," he said by way of explanation as Rodney gave him a puzzled glance. "Had to fight off Lorne and Zelenka for it, so you owe me big time."

"Thanks," Rodney replied, smiling in his usual lop-sided manner. "We can discuss repayment later. I might be able to get my hands on some popcorn…"

Ronon laughed and straightened, nodded to Sheppard and set off after Teyla.

Sheppard turned slightly to get a better look at McKay – which was easier said than done as his leg was still elevated in a sling. "So, buddy, you okay?"

Rodney blinked a couple of times at the ceiling and turned his head in the pilot's direction. "I will be," he replied. "As soon as I can get back to work." He grimaced, but not from pain. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I should've listened to you."

John shrugged non-committally. "The day you do that, the whole world will go to hell," he said, grinning. "Besides, it wasn't your fault and we've already had this conversation. End of discussion."

McKay nodded, looking grateful. "So when are you getting sprung?"

The Colonel frowned. "Not 'til you are," he said. "Although, we could always stage a breakout."

"And miss out on the good drugs? Are you insane?" asked Rodney. "Honestly, Sheppard, I thought _I_ was the one who was supposed to be concussed."

Sheppard smiled. "You have a fair and very valid point there, Dr McKay," he said. "Although I have some ideas for what to do to pass the time."

"Yeah, I'll bet you do," McKay shot back, grinning. "And I expect most of them involve some form of juvenile behaviour."

"I'm insulted by that. Spit wads are _not_ juvenile."

"Yeah, and Beckett's neon pink." Rodney closed his eyes and let out a contented hum as the painkillers pulled him back into sleep.

___________________________________________________________________________

A week later, Sheppard and McKay had been released from Carson's mother-hen like clutches under strict instructions that they were returning to light duties only. Both men had readily agreed without any arguments, remembering the last time they'd defied such a request – those needles had been enormous.

They were currently sat in the rec room, trying to decide which DVD to watch to pass the time. Before the friendly argument could become heated (McKay wanted to watch Doctor Who Season Four, while Sheppard was vying for Star Wars – Return of the Jedi), Elizabeth came in, flanked by Carson, Teyla and Ronon.

"Gentlemen," she said. "I trust you're obeying your doctor's orders this time?"

Both boys nodded ferverently.

"Good." She moved over to the free couch and curled up on it – the others did similarly, and soon, the gang were all comfortable. "I was going over the data on Gemæd," she said conversationally.

Rodney's eyes lit up. "Yeah? Did it tell you why he was a total nut job?"

She smiled tightly. "Not in so many words, I'm afraid, but I did find something interesting."

"Gonna share?" asked John, tilting his head. He shifted his foot slightly on the stool, trying to stop the edge of the cast from digging into his leg. "Or are we about to play Twenty Questions?"

"I knew that the name 'Gemæd' was familiar," Weir replied, "but I couldn't work out where I'd heard it."

"So?" asked Ronon, who had managed to snag the boys' popcorn bowl. "It's just a name, right?"

"Actually, it's a little more than that. The word 'Gemæd' comes from old English. It means 'deprived of reason'."

"Figures," Rodney snorted. "I was right. Whack job, all the way."

"Aye," Carson agreed. "And 'Gemæd' was formed from 'Gemãd', meaning 'irrational'."

"So does this mean anything or are we talking about the mother of all coincidences here, then?" asked Sheppard.

Elizabeth smiled wanly. "It turns out that Gemæd wasn't his birth name, but was more…"

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me. It was a _nickname_?" asked McKay incredulously.

Carson nodded. "Aye, lad. It's like the Ancient equivalent of calling someone 'dorkweed'."

"Nice analogy, doc," Sheppard replied, grinning. "Never would've guessed you were really twelve years old."

"So what else did you find?" asked Rodney, whose interest was now well and truly piqued. He focused his attention on the girls and Ronon, choosing to ignore the whispered bitching coming from the Air Force man and Head of Medicine.

"Gemæd was thought to be insane," Teyla replied. "His fellow scientists actually banished him to M4R-924 to try and prevent him from harming anyone."

"Dorkweed?! C'mon, doc, you can do better than that. What about dickwad?"

Rodney smacked John with a pillow. "Shut up, Sheppard, I'm trying to talk to the adults in the room. Does that mean that the Zed PM research was…?"

"Haud yer wheesht, ya radge Yankee bastard…"

The pillow was lobbed at Beckett, catching the Scotsman on the ear. "Carson, shut up!"

"False," Ronon grunted, rolling his eyes at the physician's last comment. "He made it up, stole some other dude's notes."

"You mean that the outpost was a deliberate trap?" asked John, shocked enough to cease his fight with Beckett.

Carson nodded. "Aye, and a damn good one at that," he said, his voice dark. "We're just lucky that the chair didn't cause as much damage as it could have."

"But why?" asked McKay. "What was the point? I mean I could understand if it was designed to take out the Wraith, but we were the only ones who could get it." He pointed between the Air Force man and himself.

Elizabeth sighed. "I honestly don't know," she said. "Then again, all we're certain of is that Gemæd was branded as dangerous because he insisted on performing dangerous experiments to do with the ATA gene, or at least, it's equivalent in the Ancients." She grimaced. "All we have is two different sets of opinions and not a lot of proof."

"I believe we should leave it at that," Teyla announced.

"That explains the feedback," McKay muttered, rubbing his temples at the memory. "Rat bastard."

"_Insane_ rat bastard," Sheppard agreed.

There was a short silence as the information sunk in.

"So, there's still a chance that we can find the actual outpost?" asked John.

"I would say so, yes," Weir replied. "But it may take a while. We have no way of knowing just how much of the database Gemæd managed to corrupt."

McKay looked at Sheppard. "Oh, I think we can afford to wait," he said slyly, grinning. He turned his gaze to the ex-runner. "Oi! Give us our popcorn back, Conan."

"Come and get it," the Satedan shot back, with a feral smile.

"You're asking for it," Sheppard warned.

"Is that supposed to make me worried?"

The boys looked at each other again and nodded. "On three," John said quietly. "One, two, THREE!"

The popcorn went flying as Ronon found himself under fire from a volley of cushions and pillows.

All thoughts of insane Ancients and ZPMs were soon forgotten as the pillow fight reached a new level. Amid the carnage, Sheppard smiled. His team was safe and more or less in one piece. It had been a close call this time, but somehow, they'd managed to get away with it by the skin of their teeth.

Laughter and muffled curses filled the rec room as the fight continued.

-FIN-

**Gaelic Translations:**

A Dhia – Oh God

Mo Chara – My friend

**Czech Translations:**

Muj boze – My God

Zatracene -- Shit

Zkurvysyn – Son of a bitch

Priteli – My friend

Ano – Yes

Ne - No


End file.
